


Belief Extraordinary

by Arsenica



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Fantasy, Multi, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 92
Words: 184,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenica/pseuds/Arsenica
Summary: Try as she might, Sarah Everett never could be normal. One night, her deepest wishes come true when she's swept away to Neverland, the island of eternal youth and misfit boys. But Neverland is neither all she imagined, nor all it appears. Between the island's dark jungles and devilish(ly attractive) inhabitants, Sarah will need every ounce of her wits to survive. But the boy king of Neverland is in for a surprise. Unbeknownst to anyone, herself most of all, the most dangerous thing on the island? May very well be Sarah.





	1. A Night Like Any Other

Sarah Everett was always a strange child. Those who liked her would say she was a true individual, that she marched to the beat of her own slightly off-key drum. Those who didn’t like her had less savoury words for the burgeoning eccentric, but she did her best to ignore their words on her good days and content herself with late-night musings on the perfect comeback on her bad ones. After all, it wasn’t her critics’ fault they were boring any more than it was her fault she felt compelled to curtsy to the squirrels or ask the trees permission before resting in their branches. Yes, Sarah was a grade-A, 100 percent, dyed-in-the-wool weirdo. And proud! But something was still missing.

The only problem, of course, with marching to the beat of your own drum is that very rarely can you find someone to march along with you. And Sarah, for all her strange ways, was in general very quiet, very reserved, and very, very lonely. So as years turned over into years, she grew better at pretending to be boring. She gave the squirrels only a knowing nod, and she learned the right places to laugh and needle and demand answers about the boys and clothes and TV shows that seemed so very important to her peers. She made friends. She grew up some. And most of all, she ached.

It wasn’t that her life was bad, on the contrary-she had a loving family. Friends who if they did not understand her, at least liked her company and the face she put on for them. Good grades, food to eat, a nice house-everything a person should ever want to make them happy. Yet still, despite all that, something always felt as though it were missing. She would wake from a dream with the feeling that here, in this world, was not where she belonged. Rather, she felt wherever or whatever she had just awoken from, dancing just beyond reach of waking memory, was the place she ought to be. Yet her childhood years went by and no shadow tapped at her window, no rabbit led her down into the earth, no friendly wind whisked her away, and every closet she opened had a disappointingly solid backing. Still, for all her trying to push it down, to grow up, to accept the real world, a deep part of her still believed. And she feared very much, that it always would.

One night as she was lying in bed, not so very different from the many drearily ordinary nights that had come before it, Sarah felt the old longing come on with a vengeance. _Come on Sarah, enough with that_. She tried to admonish herself. _You’ve got that double-date tomorrow, maybe you could just try being excited about that?_ She turned first one way, then the other, trying to get comfortable and most of all to get her mind to just quiet down for once. It was less than obliging.

With an aggravated groan, she flicked on the lamp by her bed and sat up. Rubbing her eyes against the bright light, she stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. After flicking some water on her face, she stared long and hard at her reflection. “Alright Sarah.” She told herself gravely. “You are going on a _hot_ date tomorrow with your _best_ friend and you are going to be excited about something _real. For. Once._ ” She glared at herself a moment before groaning and resting her head on the mirror. Who was she kidding? No matter how hard she tried, when her brain got in one of these moods things in this world _-the real world_ , she tried to insist-just didn’t excite her as much as she knew they should. What was wrong with her? She shambled back down to her bedroom dejectedly. She looked longingly out the window.

_Don’t do it._ She told herself. _You’ll just be more disappointed._ She shut her eyes tight and opened them again. _Don’t do it._ She thought, as she walked towards the window. She leaned against the cool glass and stared out into the night. _Don’t-_ “I believe.” She whispered. A moment, and nothing happened “I believe.” She pleaded. “Please. Please, I believe.” One last time, despairingly. “I believe…” After a moment, she let out a pent-up breath. _Who am I kidding._ She thought to herself. _This is all there is-there’s no magic escape and I’d be too old even if there were._ She curled herself into a ball as she lay down to sleep. _At least,_ she thought, half-begging her subconscious, _at least in my dreams, let me go there._

Not much later, she awoke with a start. The room was much colder than it had been, and a glance around the room showed why- the window was open. _What the-_ Sarah went stock still and her mind started racing. Was someone in her house? In her room, right now? She looked around frantically, looking for signs of an intruder while trying to stay as still as possible. Maybe they hadn’t noticed her. Maybe she’d opened the window in her sleep. Maybe-she swallowed a scream, not daring to let it escape her throat. A hulking figure stood in the corner. No, not a figure…it turned to reveal bright glowing eyes. A _shadow_.

Before she could so much as stand and give one of her squirrel-famous curtsies, the shadow was on her, lifting her by the arms and flying out the window. “I’m dreaming.” Sarah laughed madly. “I have to be dreaming.” Her heart felt like it was soaring- she loved the dreams where she flew.

But something felt…off. She was very sure hours had passed, and it seemed as though she was flitting in and out of being awake- but surely that wouldn’t be the case if she were dreaming? She didn’t know how much time had passed when she was woken very roughly by the scraping of her legs against a tree canopy. “Ouch, hey!” She called to the shadow. If it heard her, it didn’t answer. “Be careful, please!” In response, it let go. Sarah screamed as she fell through the night, the last thing she recalled before a blank mind the gritty feeling of sand beneath her legs.


	2. Unexpected

“I’m getting up soon Mom, I swear” Sarah mumbled. She could feel her mom shaking her shoulder. Ouch, wait! Her eyes darted open. That wasn’t a shake, it was a kick. She sat up in a heap, spitting sand out of her mouth. Sand? Why was there sand? “Heyyy, she’s awake.” A voice droned, and not a familiar one. Slowly, Sarah brought her eyes up from the sand. She quickly wished she hadn’t as the memory of her late-night ride on the shadow express came back to her. It was dark, she was surrounded by strangers, and she had no idea where she was. More to the point, _neither did anyone else_.

Sarah’s eyes darted around, panic-stricken. This was not what she had signed up for, not by any stretch of the imagination, she was sure. Shadowed faces leered at her from under rough cloaks as her brain tried desperately to process what was happening. She’d thought she was dreaming, but she could feel saltwater stinging in the rough cuts on her legs, and as dark as it was her vision was far more detailed than any dream she’d ever remembered. The figures around her jeered and shifted, laughing amongst themselves at what entertainment this new arrival to the island might bring. She tried to speak, to demand answers, but no words came out- not even a strangled sound, just like in her worst nightmares. _Maybe I’m dreaming after all._  She half-thought, half-begged.

So much adrenaline was pumping through her system she barely registered when the maddening crowd around her fell silent, until a smooth voice cut through the night air. “Come on now, boys.” Sarah whipped her head in the voice’s direction. “Is that any way to welcome a guest?”

The crowd parted as a boy dressed all in mismatched greens ambled lazily up to her. His collected attitude formed a stark contrast to Sarah’s fear, and a small part of her- the very small part not frightened out of its mind- was pissed off at how calm he was. “Wh-” Sarah stuttered, and the figures around her laughed. She tried again, trying to will her voice to strength. “Where am I?” She squeaked out. The boy smiled down at her, though it was far from a friendly smile. Now that he was closer, Sarah could see that he was about her age, except for his eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but his eyes seemed to her to hold something very old, and very dark. “Who are you?” She tried again, her voice somewhat stronger now. “And what do you want?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” The boy mused. His voice was soft, but under the smooth accent and quiet tone she could feel a steely edge to it. Although the night was not a cold one, she shivered. “But since you came to our home-” He gestured broadly at the hoods surrounding her “Why don’t you start?” Sarah stared at him, confused. It’s not as though she had come here on purpose-if he didn’t know why that shadow brought her here, who would? The boy’s face took on a harder set. “I’m not a patient boy, _little girl_.” He said darkly. “Start with your name. And then maybe you can explain why you’re on _my_ island.”

Sarah gulped rapid breaths, trying to calm down. “Sarah.” She began slowly, but the words quickly streamed out all in a rush. “My name is Sarah and I was brought here by a shadow, I didn’t know it was your island and I’m very sorry for trespassing but if you’ll just point me in the direction of the mainland and I don’t know, maybe a boat or something, if you can, I’ll get out of your hair and forget I ever saw you, really, it’s pretty dark so it’s not as if I know who any of you are so really I couldn’t turn you in to the cops even if I wanted to, which of course I do not, so anyway sorry to bother you, I’ll be on my way.” She tried to scramble to her feet, but the sand underneath her was less than cooperative. Not to mention, her knees felt like jello and the intense stare of this island-owning boy was _not_ helping.

To her surprise, the boy laughed. It was a harsh sound that set her ears back on her neck, and the fear that had subsided momentarily came trickling back in. “Did you hear that, boys?” Their leader called to the group. “The _shadow_ brought her. The shadow brought us a girl! Oh, that is rich.” Sarah was not sure her eyes could widen any more, but she could feel them trying to anyway. “Well, sweetheart, let me tell you something.” He crouched down till their faces were only a few inches apart. “The shadow may have brought you here, but that doesn’t make you a Lost Boy.” Sarah blinked. A Lost Boy? The gears in her head started to whirl. No. No, it couldn’t be. The boy spoke again. “But no one, and I do mean no one, gets off of this island without my say so.” Sarah closed her eyes, feeling a very heavy weight settling down on her. Only a moment later a hand grabbed her face roughly. “Open your eyes little girl. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

Sarah opened her eyes, but slowly. If the leader of the boys was confused by the replacement of fear with hurt in the girl’s dampening eyes, he gave no outward indication. “Peter?” She asked softly. Pan blinked, narrowing his eyes at this intruder’s sudden knowledge of him. “Is…is it really you?” 


	3. Cage

Pan recovered quickly, tossing her face from his hand as he stood back up. “Peter Pan, in the flesh.” He droned, rolling his eyes. “Welcome to Neverland.” He was confused a moment by the spark of recognition and…was that excitement in the newcomer’s eye? Something about this newcomer unsettled him, though he wasn’t sure what. He looked around at his Lost Boys. “Well, boys,” He drawled. “I’ve got to go see a shadow about a certain _unwanted_ delivery.” His eyes glinted harshly and Sarah’s trickle of fear grew stronger. “Felix!” A tall, raggedy blonde stepped out from the crowd. He had a lazy, knife-blade grin that made Sarah’s stomach turn just to look at him. “Show our new guest to her accommodations.” Sarah froze again, her head barely shaking. She wasn’t 100% certain why, but she did _not_ want to go with this boy. “Oh, but do be gentle!” Pan called as he walked off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “We wouldn’t want to hurt a lady.” The rest of the motley crew began to disperse-with one exception.

“Come on now, little bird.” Felix said. He spoke slowly, with a false cheerfulness that set Sarah’s teeth on edge. “It’s time to get you back to your nest.” He reached down and grabbed Sarah’s arm, pulling her roughly to her feet. Her knees threatened to collapse at first, but ultimately held out. He pushed her forward, the arm he held behind her back.

“I can-” Sarah started tepidly,

“You can what?” His voice was casual.

“I can walk. On my own.” She tried once to shake her arm loose. Her captor’s grip only tightened, and she thought she heard a snort.

“Could have fooled me.” He pushed her forward again. The further from the beach they moved, the thicker the jungle became. Sarah tried not to think about how many spider webs she was walking though-fortunately her concentration was largely taken up with not tripping over the seemingly endless roots or running into vines and branches. It was much darker here than it had been on the beach, with even the moon and starlight thinned by the canopy of trees. Sarah heard the sounds of large animals in the distance, hunting, howling, and fighting. She shivered in spite of herself. “What’s the matter?” Her captor asked. “Scared of the dark?”  He must have been leaning down, because despite his prodigious height above her, she could feel his breath on her neck. She stiffened, almost tripping, and Felix barked a laugh. “Or maybe you’re just scared of me.” She didn’t dignify that with a response, and Felix didn’t seem to be looking for one. They walked on in silence for a while longer.

Eventually, the two came to a clearing. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief at first, glad to have stopped walking- after the adventures of the night so far, she was exhausted. That changed very quickly when she saw what was in the clearing. “I’m not going in that thing.” She said firmly. Just a few feet away from them, a large cage sat waiting to be strung up. Crafted from bamboo, vines, and what might have been rawhide ties, it did not look like a comfortable place to spend the night. Especially in a jungle full of dangerous animals. Felix looked down at her, amused.

“Oh you do have a backbone!” He drawled, and Sarah stiffened again. Of course she had a backbone! She just…wasn’t crazy. Anyone would be scared in her situation, probably. “We’ll see how long that lasts.” He released her arm at last, and Sarah rolled her shoulder trying to work out the stiffness of having her arm behind her back for so long. Her eyes darted around the clearing. This was her chance to- “I…wouldn’t think about it if I were you.” Felix began. Sarah looked at him-could the Lost Boys read minds now too? “I’m faster than you, I know the forest better, and frankly you wouldn’t last thirty seconds out there.” Sarah wanted to protest, but knew he was probably right.

“It’s a better chance than in a cage.” Trying to prove she had a backbone-to him or herself, she wasn’t sure- she stood as straight as she could and glared what she hoped was defiantly at him. Disappointingly, he just chuckled.

“Well if you’d rather sleep in the camp with all those rowdy boys,” He began. Sarah narrowed her eyes. What was the catch here? “It’s been a _long_ time since we’ve had a _girl_ on the island.” Felix’s eyes danced with amusement. Oh. Now she understood. Gross.

“Fine.” She groused, walking towards the cage. “Lock me in.” Felix only smiled as he shut the door. A few moments later the whole thing shook and she felt herself lifted into the air. “Waitwaitwaitwait!” She cried out, panicking just a little bit. She heard nothing in response, but she saw Felix stop below the cage as he secured the vines holding it in place. “Can I at least get a blanket or something?” It wasn’t a cold night, but Sarah would take whatever comfort she could get here. Besides, the cage floor wasn’t exactly the softest bed.

“Good night, little bird.” Was all the response she got. “Enjoy your new nest.” Sarah didn’t think she would be able to sleep the rest of the night, especially considering she could barely fall asleep in her own home in a comfortable bed. She underestimated her body’s need for rest after all the stress of the night however, and managed to doze until the morning sun started creeping in through the slats of the cage.

Groaning, she tried her best to stretch out the stiffness in her limbs from the variety of awkward sleeping positions her body had tried in the night. It was far from a tiny cage, but it wasn’t exactly spacious either. With not much else to do, Sarah got down to thinking. This was Neverland. _This_ was Neverland, the place she had always dreamed about going. But it was all wrong. Sure, the Neverland in the books wasn’t exactly a safe place, and Peter Pan was a jerk there too, but…this was on a whole other level. _Book Peter Pan was definitely not that good-looking though._ A particularly traitorous part of her mind mused. “Ugh, gross!” She exclaimed aloud. She was not in the mood for any teenage hormone shenaniganry today. If she was going to survive here, she had to stay alert-no matter how pretty her probably totally insane captors ended up being in the daylight.

“What’s gross?” A voice called out from below, making her jump.

“Ouch…” She groaned, rubbing her head. She was wracking up a whole laundry list of hurts in record time.

“Did the little girl see a spider?” She recognized the biting tone in that voice now. She went silent. Part of her wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her was still frightened. And part of her was starting to become really, really annoyed about this whole situation. Her thoughts were interrupted with a sudden acceleration towards the ground. She yelped as the cage came to an abrupt stop just before the ground. A familiar face appeared at the cage door. “You know, I don’t like to be ignored.” Pan directed. Sarah stared at him, wide-eyed once more. He rolled his eyes. “Oh, spare me the wide-eyed innocence act.” Sarah opened her mouth and abruptly shut it again. “The Shadow told me an interesting story just now.” Pan began. “It says you asked it to bring you here. Practically begged it.”

“That’s-” Sarah started, not sure how to explain her last-ditch attempt to find magic. Especially when that magic turned out to be real.

“So that explains why you know who I am.” Pan continued. “But it doesn’t explain how.” It was difficult to tell through the cage, but she though his eyes looked narrower. “Or how you managed to convince the shadow to bring a _girl_ to my island.” He stared at her for a long moment. His eyebrow twitched upwards. “Even if you did beg.”

Sarah’s cheeks flushed, but this time with anger. “You don’t know me.” She spat.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Pan sniped.

“You. Don’t. Know me.” Sarah answered again. She hoped he didn’t hear the quaver creeping in to her voice. “Yeah, so I asked a shadow to come whisk me away from my normal, mundane life. Maybe I even did ask it a little too forcefully. So what. I didn’t think it would work, it never-” She paused, swallowing. Silence from the outside. “It never worked before.” She finished quietly. “Nothing did.” There was a long silence.

“How many ways did you try?” Pan’s voice sounded…amused, almost? That confused her.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sarah said dismissively. Her quest for magic was exactly that. _Her_ quest, that she didn’t, couldn’t share with anyone else. Not even with the actual Peter Pan, if this was what the real Peter Pan was like.

“I decide what matters on this island.” The ice was back in Pan’s voice, so when the cage door swung open a moment later, Sarah worried she might be in for a less than pleasant start to the day. Pan must have read it in her face, because the first she saw of him clearly was him rolling his eyes. “Oh for-” He started. “Look.” She did. He was holding a bowl of…something…in his hand. “I was just here to bring you breakfast, like the generous host I am.” Sarah bit back a snort. She had the distinct feeling it would not go well for her if she let it out.

“…Thanks.” She said, tentatively. She hadn’t been on the island long, but she was relatively certain there was a catch to this.

“But,” She groaned internally. Here it came. “Since I’m such a good host, I’ll expect you to be a good guest.” He smirked. “Which means answering my questions. How many ways did you try?”  Sarah stared at Pan, and Pan stared back. It might have been only moments, but it felt as though the silence dragged on forever before Sarah finally looked away.

“I lost count.” She said at last, quietly.

“I didn’t hear that.” Pan didn’t sound amused.

“I said, I lost count!” Sarah called, forcefully. “Anyway I could think of, I tried it. None of them worked.” Till now anyway. Just her luck the one way that worked would dump her in the worst interpretation ever of the land of imagination and eternal youth. To her surprise, Pan laughed.

“Wow.” He said, setting the bowl down in the cage. “You're quite the piece of work, aren't you?”

“Says the boy who locks random girls into cages and can’t handle any perceived challenge to his authority.” She muttered.

“What was that?” Pan called, with mock sweetness.

“…Nothing.” Sarah was many things, but a fool she was not. As she reached for her mystery breakfast, the cage door swung shut again and she felt herself lifting higher of the ground.

“Looks like Felix was wrong after all.” Pan mused. It was loud enough that Sarah could tell it was for her benefit. “You _don’t_ have a backbone.” _Of all the nerve!_ She thought. Not that there was a great deal of evidence in the past 24 hours to prove them wrong, but she’d show them. Once she bought herself some maneuverability. Somehow. She’d show them _exactly_ how much back-bone she had.

“Enjoy your breakfast, little bird!” Sarah sighed and dug in. Hopefully, she’d show herself, too.


	4. Tricks and Threats

It wasn’t until after she’d finished gobbling down her breakfast that she realized how stupid it was to take food from people who were clearly out of their minds. “Ugh, you idiot!” She admonished herself aloud. “That could have been drugged, or poisoned, or-” She stopped suddenly. She had heard rustlings in the jungle around her all night, but this sounded much larger, and much closer. _Alright think Sarah._ Her brain urged, as she went stock-still. Maybe, if she was very quiet, whatever it was wouldn’t hear her. _Or see you, in this giant hanging cage?_ _You’re practically a boxed dinner._ Sarah took slow, deep breaths, trying to will her heartbeat to slow down so she could hear herself over the sounds of its frantic thumping. The rustling was getting closer. Trying to swing the cage as little as possible, Sarah craned her neck in the direction of the sound.

A squirrel jumped out of the thicket a few moments later. Sarah released the breath she had been holding, than laughed. She laughed loud, long, and frantically, until her laughter turned to a mad cackle, and tears started to form in her eyes. “This is ridiculous.” She told herself hysterically. “You always wanted to go somewhere magical, now here you are! Neverland! In-in-” She struggled to stop laughing so she could have the breath to speak. “In a cage surrounded by dangerous jungles and crazy, arrogant, self-aggrandizing-”

“What’s so funny?” A quiet voice called. Sarah’s laughter stopped abruptly. For all the noise a single squirrel made in the jungle, it didn’t seem fair that a person could sneak up on her. _Then again, you were cackling like a madwoman._ Her mind admonished. Trying to get herself under post-hysterics control, Sarah scooted over to try and see the newcomer. The cage bars weren’t great for high-definition visuals, but she could see it wasn’t Pan or Felix. The cloak told her he was a lost boy, but he seemed shorter and therefore probably younger than her. He also seemed more hesitant in the way he carried himself, suggesting he was far from top of the food chain here.

A lightbulb went off in Sarah’s head. _Alright, you wanted an adventure?_ She asked herself. _Adventurers are clever. Time to start acting like it._ She laughed again. It was a little forced at first, but it sounded more natural as she spoke through it. “Ahaha, you wouldn’t-ha-you wouldn’t get it!” She answered. “Not,” she snorted. “Down there!” She broke into a stream of half-way convincing laughter, and thanked whatever was out there that she’d gotten into the drama electives.

“What do you mean?” The boy called out. He sounded suspicious, as though he suspected a catch was coming.

_Being around Peter probably does that to you_ , she mused. “Nothing, nothing.” She fake-laughed through her hands as though trying to cover it up. “Don’t worry about it!” Inspiration struck, and she threw herself to one side to make the cage swing.

“What are you doing up there?” Her small visitor demanded. “Whatever it is, cut it out.” He tried to sound imperious, but she could sense the uncertain waver in his voice. She would almost feel bad if she did succeed in tricking him, but not as bad as she would feel stuck in the cage. She might not have dared an escape at night, but during the day? Well, sunlight had a way of making people brave or stupid, and she was no exception.

“I said don’t worry about it!” She called down, throwing herself to the other side. “Shh, cut it out!”

If the boy hadn’t been suspicious before, he was now. “Who are you talking to?” He called up, and she could see him squinting at the bars.

“No one, no one!” She called down. “I said be quiet,” She stage-whispered into her hand. She tossed the bowl across the cage so the rattle sounded like more than one thing was moving around inside. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t believe you.” The boy said, and she could see him moving to untie the ropes that held the cage aloft. Now was her chance! She grabbed the spoon from breakfast, looking it over appraisingly. It was wood, probably not much good to her, but she tucked it in the pocket of her pajama pants anyway. When the door creaked open, she threw her weight against it, tumbling out and onto the small Lost Boy. “Get off!” He said angrily, struggling against her. He was reaching for something at his belt, but Sarah was having none of whatever that was. She grabbed his wrists and pulled him up in front of her.

_I am fully wrestling with a child_ , she thought in shock. Now that she could see him clearly, the boy looked no more than ten, tops, though the hate with which he stared back at her had the weight of someone who had lived much longer. _Cage_. She reminded herself, shaking her head. She turned the boy around so she was holding his arms behind his back. _Quite a reverse from last night_ , she mused wryly. “Take me to the beach.” She demanded. The boy didn’t move.

“Or what?” He spat viciously. “I’m not scared of you.” He struggled against her, but Sarah’s grip held. “You’re just some dumb girl.” Sarah pushed him forward roughly. A twinge of guilt struck her, but she pushed passed it.

“I’m a girl with a full two feet of height on you at least, _little boy_ , and probably a few dozen IQ points.” She pushed him forward again. “Now I’ve had a very rough night, and quite frankly when I get tired I get mean, so unless you want to see that side come out,” She paused, then hissed in his ear, “ _Take me to the beach._ ” The boy stood stock-still for a moment, but then to her surprise he started walking in the direction she thought she’d come from last night. That was a promising sign she figured, as it occurred to her somewhat belatedly that he might just lead her back to whatever dark hole Peter and his goons laired up in.

The boy had no such intentions. The worldview shift when a small child learns that rather than guarding a small house finch, as they assumed, they were instead sent to guard an apparently unstable raptor, was not a pleasant one. It was not that Cody, the Lost Boy in question, had never been tricked or threatened before, but rather that he had never been tricked or threatened by a girl. He had never seen a girl, in fact, and had believed the general view that they were soft, fragile, and not good for much of anything. Tricks and threats were supposed to be the exclusive property of Pan- _not_ his prisoners. With all these heavy thoughts weighing him down, Cody stalked darkly but intrepidly towards the beach.

His captor was silent behind him, somewhat lost in her own thoughts. _I just threatened a child._ Her brain repeated, over and over. _This was_ not _how the adventurers in the story books did it._  Of course, all the great magic finders- Alice, Lucy, September, Wendy- were children themselves, so she was starting off with the rules a bit cock-eyed in any case. Still, was this really who she was when put to the test?

“Well isn’t this a surprise?” Sarah tensed immediately, thought not as much as the boy in front of her. Almost in unison, the two turned their heads. Pan, the last person either of them wanted to see in this situation, was smiling at them from behind a nearby tree. But his eyes? His eyes did _not_ look amused.


	5. Interesting

Cody began struggling ferociously in her grip. Sarah, her brain slipping rapidly back into full panic mode, let him go after only a moment. He dusted himself off aggressively, trying to avoid eye contact with the figure walking slowly towards them. Sarah could understand his feelings, and started reaching for the spoon in her pocket. It wouldn’t do much, but it was something.

“I see guard duty is a bit out of your league after all, Cody.” Pan looked the boy up and down. The poor thing was visually shaking, and Sarah felt the earlier twinge of guilt come back with a vengeance. Mentally kicking herself, she sighed loudly and spoke up.

“It wasn’t his fault.” Pan turned his attention to her with an appraising look.

“And how do you figure that?” He asked coolly. “I left a quiet prisoner in a nice safe cage several feet off the ground, and here I find he’s not only let you out, he’s leading you right where you want to go.”

Sarah continued to avoid eye contact, settling for the space right above Pan’s shoulder to address her words. “I tricked him, overpowered him, and threatened him.” She answered evenly. “Not the kid’s fault I’m so much bigger than him.” She shrugged. Cody was glaring darkly at the ground.

Pan only laughed. “You? You expect me to believe you managed to threaten one of my Lost Boys into submission? Oh that is rich.” He turned his eyes back to Cody. “You go back to camp.” He said with a snarl. “We’ll discuss…this,” He gestured distastefully, “later.” The boy slunk off through the trees, and Sarah had to be impressed at how silently he moved. Could all the Lost Boys move like that? “Now as for you.” Her attention came quickly back to the matter at hand. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself under Pan’s piercing gaze. He circled her once before stopping directly in front of her face. Not wanting to meet his eyes, she found herself staring at the deep green of his tunic. “Didn’t I tell you no one leaves this island without my say so?”

His voice was like ice sliding over steel, and Sarah bit down on her tongue to keep a sound of fear from coming out. “I wasn’t leaving,” She tried at last. “Just going to the beach.” She looked to the side. “To stretch my legs?” No response. “Cages are not very comfortable.”

A barking laugh came as her response. “It’s not meant to be comfortable,” Pan objected, “It’s a cage.” He took a step back and looked her up and down. “It’s where you keep things you don’t want, so that you can forget about them.” If his aim was to make her regret leaving the cage, it was having the opposite effect. How long might she have stayed there otherwise? Until she starved?

“No way I’m going back in now,” She muttered, more to herself than anyone else, but her audience was unfortunately attentive.

“No,” Pan said quietly. When she chanced a glance at him, he seemed deep in concentration. He looked like he was calculating a complex number in his head. Since he was staring at her while he did so, she was certain she wouldn’t like the answer. “No, I don’t think you will.” Sarah blinked twice. She wasn’t going back in the cage? Another thought occurred to her. _He’s going to kill me_. He’d never have to deal with her again, that way, and that seemed like his goal. She tightened her hand around the spoon with the handle side down. It was still rounded, but at least less rounded than the head. All the same, it was a slim hope. _Now or never again!_ Sarah thought to herself, and when he moved towards her she launched herself at his throat with the spoon raised in her hand. She didn’t make it very far.

A look of shock was painted over Pan’s face as Sarah tried desperately to move her limbs - and failed. Somehow, she was completely paralysed. Not so much as her finger could twitch. When he saw what was in her hand, Pan’s shock turned to confusion, which quickly bubbled over into harsh laughter. “A spoon?” He demanded through his laughter. “You just tried to attack me, me? With a _spoon_?” He shook his head as his laughter subsided. When it had stopped, he leaned down so the two were at eye level. Frozen as she was, Sarah had no choice but to meet the darkness shifting in his eyes. Pan could hear her breathing getting faster with fear, and he smiled. “You’re more interesting than I thought, little bird.” He ran his teeth over his lower lip, and his voice pitched lower. “But I think it’s time you learned why I’m king of this island.”

As he grabbed her, Sarah screamed-and the two disappeared in a flash of dark red smoke.


	6. Games

She was still screaming when they reappeared on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. Pan, clearly annoyed, shoved his hand over her mouth to cover the sound. The spell must have been wearing off, because she felt her knees getting weak. When she saw where they were, she wrenched her eyes shut. Though the view was beautiful, she had never liked heights-especially heights in windy places, like this one. The braid she had tied her hair up in to sleep was already messy, but the harsh sea winds were ripping even more strands free, and they whipped at her face and neck. When Pan released her, she sank down to her knees, gripping the solid earth with her hands. It felt oddly comforting, as though the ground itself was trying to give her strength.

Pan rolled his eyes at her antics. “Get up.” He told her. Sarah shook her head slowly.

“You’re going to kill me.” Her voice was barely audible over the crash of the waves far below. She tried to shove the raw fear in the back of her mind down enough to figure a way out of this mess. The cliff was much too high to survive the fall, even if she didn’t land on the jagged rocks below. Peter could teleport, so running wasn’t much of an option. Still, it might be the best one she had. To her surprise, Pan laughed.

“Now where would be the fun in that?” He asked casually. He turned to look out over the water. “No, you see, I like games.” As he spoke, Sarah was doing her best to subtly scoot away from the edge. Her eyes were open now, but fixed resolutely at the ground. She refused to look over the water again and remember just how high up they were. Thus transfixed, she didn’t see Pan had moved away from the edge until he was hauling her to her feet. “Do you like games, Sarah?” He asked, a wicked glint in his eye. “Because we’re going to play one right now.” Sarah shuddered, and the boy king grinned. He liked games, but he loved fear. And Sarah was serving him a veritable feast of it. He took a step towards the cliff edge, Sarah in hand. When he tried to take another, he found her rooted in place. He pulled on her arm, gently at first, but she remained transfixed to the ground. He narrowed his eyes.

“You have to explain the rules.” Sarah told him quietly. She was crouched ever so slightly, planting her weight in her legs so Peter couldn’t pull her towards the edge without some force. Trying to ignore the taken-aback look on his face, she continued. “If we’re going to play a game, you have to explain the rules first.” Even with her hands removed, it still felt as though the ground was helping to stabilise her, and her mind was starting to clear. _He’s just a bully._ She told herself sternly. _And you know very well how to deal with them._ Her captor watched with some interest as she schooled her face from sheer terror to a calm mask. Her shallow breathing and the tension in the arm he was holding told him she was still afraid, but he wondered about this new tactic from her.

He tilted his head and said wryly, “Very well. Let’s talk about the rules.” Maintaining his grip on her arms, he gestured out at the water. “This game is called ‘Chicken’. Whoever can get closer to the edge of the cliff, wins.” Sarah forced her eyes to his face, staring just above the bridge of his nose.

“That’s hardly fair,” She began, forcing her voice to an even calmness. “You can fly and I can’t.” Pan looked at her with interest.

“And how do you know that?” He inquired.

“Everyone knows Peter Pan can fly.” Sarah replied, matter-of-factly. Pan wondered briefly just how much the outside world knew about him these days, though since Sarah hadn’t seemed to think he was real, it likely wasn’t too much of a problem.

“How do you know you can’t?” He asked her. He knew she couldn’t, of course- only he could fly in Neverland. But as crazy as this new girl was about magic, it might be fun to see her try. Sure, she’d go plummeting and he’d have to swoop down to save her, but that could be fun too. Even villains liked to play the hero at times.

Sarah broke through his musings in a testy voice. “If I could fly, do you think I’d still be standing on the cliff with you?” Granted, she hadn’t tried to fly in years, and certainly never in a land with real magic, but… _No._ She lectured herself. _He’s trying to trick you and you’ll go plummeting off the cliff to your death._ Keeping her face in the same calm mask, she dared a few seconds of eye contact. “You _are_ trying to kill me.”

Perhaps the new arrival was smarter than he thought. “Would I do that?” He asked innocently. Sarah just stared at him. Once again, he was struck by something about her that was a bit unsettling-but he still couldn’t put his finger on what. “Like it or not, that’s the game.” He manner turned brusque, trying to brush off whatever odd feeling had just come over him.  

“And what are we playing for?” Sarah was stalling, if she was honest with herself- she knew it didn’t really matter since she would lose this game anyway. How could she not?

“You’ll see.” Pan said with a smirk. He, too, knew this wasn’t a game he could lose. “Time to start.” Standing next to her, he took a step forward towards the cliff edge. “Your turn.” Sarah took a deep breath to steady herself and took a step up to match him. Two more steps for each of them brought them almost to the very edge of the cliff. Sarah was breathing heavily now, but kept her face stoic. She refused to look down, knowing if she did the ground would yawn away from her and her knees would give out. She didn’t see the grin spreading over Pan’s face as he took one more step-balancing himself on the very edge of the cliff, a feat only possible if he were holding himself up with magic. “I win.” He said slyly. Sarah, still refusing to look down, was silent a long moment.

“It’s still my turn.” She said at last through gritted teeth. Her mind was racing. She couldn’t take another step without falling she knew, but she didn’t want this boy to beat her. Heart pounding, she lowered herself to the ground. Pan watched curiously as she lay down at the cliffs edge, scooting her body out until her legs were dangling off of it and only her upper body strength was keeping her from plummeting onto the jagged rocks below. Her eyes were squeezed tightly closed, and her whole body was shuddering with ragged breaths. Was it exertion? Fear? A mix of both? A very thin, very quiet voice broke out over the waves. “We tie.”


	7. Lost Girl

After a long moment of silence-too long for Sarah’s liking, when she could feel her strength slipping away from her with every moment-laughter rippled out above her. She had heard Peter laugh many times before now, but this sounded different. Rather than cruel or mocking, this sound almost bordered on genuine. Sarah might even have thought it was sweet if she hadn’t been desperately clinging to a cliff face in fear for her life. As the laughter died off, she felt strong arms lift her safely back over the edge. She lay back with her eyes to the sky and breathed out, reveling in the feeling of gloriously firm earth beneath her body. A sudden bout of euphoria-or maybe hysteria-washed over her, and she burst into laughter. How many times had she ever survived a near-death experience after all?

The sound of Sarah’s laughter startled Pan out of whatever he had been thinking. Looking down at her as she shook with laughter, Pan felt a smile creep onto his face. He reached a hand down to her, which she took for once willingly, and pulled her to her feet. Their new arrival was proving to be much more entertaining than he had anticipated. “We tie.” He said, eyes dancing. The corner of his smile twitched.  “Lost Girl.”

At his words, Sarah felt a strange rush of emotions. She had been through a lot over the last day and night, and pretty much all of it was the doing of the boy in front of her. She knew this Neverland was not the Neverland she had always imagined, always longed for. But still, her, a Lost Girl? Her! I finally found it. She thought. I’m here. Where I belong. A wide grin stretched over her face and her eyes lit with joy. She couldn’t help it. All those years of longing bubbled up inside her and spilled over into another bout of mad, joyous laughter.

Watching her, Pan couldn’t help but feel amused. Still, this wasn’t entirely how he’d planned to spend his day. He cleared his throat, catching Sarah’s attention. Drawn back to the present and her surroundings, her cheeks warmed. “I know girls are prone to hysterics,” Pan said dryly, “But are you going to do this a lot?” Sarah coughed, embarrassed, and settled back into her composure. He looked her quickly up and down. “Better.” Sarah fidgeted under his gaze, and he smirked. “Better get used to it, Lost Girl, I’m your king now.” He mused, drawing closer to her. Sarah started when he put his hand on her shoulder and leaned down, breathing his words into her ear. “And something tells me I’ll be looking at you a lot”. Feeling her stiffen beneath his hand, Pan smiled and straightened, then walked away from the cliff face and towards the forest.

Sarah let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She didn’t like people in general so close to her. And Lost Girl or no, having Peter so close to her made her feel like a particularly tasty-looking lamb in front of a very, very hungry lion. Get a hold of yourself! She admonished, and went to follow after her new leader. “Where are we going?” She queried.

Pan didn’t turn around. “To camp.” He called back. Swallowing a squeak of excitement, Sarah followed after him. It was time to see her new home.

__

The walk through the jungle was mostly a silent one. Pan seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, and Sarah was just happy not to be the focus of his attention. She tried to keep track of where they went, but one part of the jungle looked much like another to her and she soon gave up trying. Instead, she focused on trying to walk softly. Pan, and the other Lost Boys she had noted, could move without a sound through the forests. She felt like a drunken elephant by comparison. She was so focused on trying not to break branches as she stepped, she didn’t notice Pan had stopped until she was an inch from his stationary back. She stepped back hastily, putting a more comfortable distance between them.

Looking up again, she noticed the trees had thinned and they were standing at the edge of a large clearing. Lost Boys milled through a collection of tents, tree-houses, and fire pits. Some were fighting, some talking, others worked on shaping weapons or sorting gathered foods. A tall blonde was the first to notice their arrival, and ambled towards them. Sarah felt her ears pulling back on her neck like the hackles of a dog. Now that she could see him in the daylight, she could see a ragged scar running under his eye, and she felt if anything more afraid of him than ever. “Pan!” Felix called warmly, but stopped walking when he saw who was with him. “And a bird that fell from its nest.” He observed.

Sarah knew it would be foolish to give in to her sudden impulse to hide behind Pan, like a child meeting strangers, so she resisted. Instead, she stared up at the boy with the most even expression she could manage. “Felix.” She acknowledged him icily. He only smiled, and turned to Pan with a questioning look. He wouldn’t have to wait long for an answer.

Pan strode into the clearing looking very pleased with himself. “Boys!” He called loudly. The Lost Boys stopped what they were doing to listen to their leader. Several of them whispered when they saw Sarah standing awkwardly at the edge of the trees, but a look from Felix silenced them. “Today is a very special day.” Pan made a slight motion with his hand, indicating she should step forward. When she didn’t comply immediately, his look turned dark. Not wanting to deal with whatever consequences such a look might entail, Sarah stepped quickly into the camp. She kept her head high and her eyes focused straight ahead as the boys stared at her, not wanting to show them how nervous she felt.

“Today,” Pan continued slowly, “We welcome our very first Lost Girl.” Silence fell throughout the camp, and Pan grinned wolfishly. “I have no doubt you’ll make her feel very much at home.” The tone of his voice told Sarah he knew his minions would do anything but. She squared her shoulders back, trying not to fidget her hands with nerves. “As you were.” He dismissed the boys, and slowly they returned to what they were doing-though she noticed many of their eyes kept trailing back to her.

Felix hung back, and she soon saw why. He and Pan stepped away from her, conversing in hushed tones. Although she was close to them, she couldn’t pick out what they were saying. With less attention on her she dared another look around the camp. Most of the Lost Boys avoided eye contact with her, though a few glared when she chanced to look at them. One small boy in particular glared back at her with astonishing ferocity. Sarah smiled very slightly and nodded her head in Cody’s direction. The boy set to whatever he was carving with renewed force, hacking angrily away at the wood. Sarah drew her eyes away in time to see Felix ambling towards her. Great. She thought, shoving down fresh panic. Just who I need to see.

“Pan wants you to come with me.” Felix told her. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Come with you where?” She demanded. She was not about to spend another night in that death-trap cage, especially not when she’d gone to such pains to get out of it. Felix grinned as though he could guess what she was thinking.

“No need to panic, little bird.” He assured her. “Pan just thought you might like to get cleaned up.” He gestured at her dismissively, leading Sarah to take stock of her appearance. Her pajamas were torn, muddy, and dotted with blood in a few placed from the cuts and scrapes she’d acquired since the shadow first picked her up the night before. Her braid was a mess, and her skin was fairly well covered with sand, mud, and jungle detritus. Cleaning up did sound nice.

“Where?” She pressed, still suspicious. She sincerely doubted there was anything resembling a shower on this island, and with her luck the Lost Boys cleaned off in a lagoon of man-eating snakes or something. What if this was another of Pan’s games?

Felix chuckled. While the rest of the Lost Boys feared him as a matter of course, the new arrival’s suspicion-fueled panic was refreshing. He could see why Pan wanted to keep her around a bit longer. “Let’s call it a surprise.” He told her.  “Now move. Unless you want me to hold your arm again?” Sarah felt a flush creeping over her cheeks.

“That won’t be necessary.” She told him primly. With a lazy smile, he started walking towards the forest.

“Come on then,” He called. “Bird bath’s waiting.” Rolling her eyes, she followed after him.


	8. Whisper

This time, Sarah tried to pay better attention to her surroundings. She had a feeling she wouldn’t get an escort a second time. As the two walked through the jungle and no threats, jabs, or even anything resembling human communication came from the blonde giant ahead of her, Sarah felt her fear of the boy give way to curiosity. He was the only other Lost Boy whose name she knew so far, and he seemed to have some level of influence in camp if the way the other boys fell silent under his gaze was any indication. With that said, it seemed odd that he had twice been tasked with transporting her. Considering the opinion the Lost Boys evidently had of her and of girls in general, she couldn’t imagine it was seen as a very glorious task. “So.” She began quietly, but when no signs of danger appeared she grew bolder. “You’re what. Peter’s brother? Errand boy? Boyfriend?”

“Second in command.” The answer drifted back to her as her guide pressed on through the jungle. “And it’s ‘Pan’ to you.” That surprised her somewhat-Peter (or Pan, rather,) didn’t seem the type to share power with anyone. And given that, it seemed even stranger that he would be assigned to lead her to the waterfall. Surely he had more important things to do?

“If you’re so important,” Sarah needled,  “Why did he send you on escort duty?” Felix shrugged, unbothered. It would take more than jabs from a random girl to disturb his pride.

“He knows I can be trusted.” Yet another surprise. What she’d seen of Pan so far suggested he was highly unstable and exceedingly narcissistic. Neither of those qualities seemed inclined to trust.

Sarah squinted at his back, suspicious. “Trusted to what?” She asked him. “It’s not like I’m planning to make a run for it.” Her escort laughed as though the thought of her trying to run away was completely ridiculous. _He’s probably right, s_ he thought testily,  _but he doesn’t have to be so obvious about it_. She had her pride, after all.

“Why don’t you think about it.” Felix told her. The palpable amusement in his voice gave her a bad feeling. When she didn’t respond, he offered her a clue. “Like I told you last night, it’s been a long time since we had a girl on the island.” He had stopped walking to look at her. “Plenty who might be interested in the view.”

Sarah flushed at the insinuation. “I would strangle any boy who tried!” She blustered, fists clenching. “And don’t you get any ideas, or I’ll strangle you too!” She grumbled to herself, “I’d rip their eyes right out of the sockets, see if I wouldn’t.”

Felix snorted. “I’d like to see you try, little bird.” Somewhere along the path he had broken a twig from the endless branches, and had taken to chewing it lazily. Sarah found herself hoping it was poisonous. She groused,

“I have a name, you know.” She wanted to move the topic speedily on from the subject of her, bathing, and any interested parties therein. Felix shrugged.

“Can’t say I remember it.” He drawled. Sarah narrowed her eyes, trying to determine if he was looking to get a further rise out of her. _Maybe he puts people in cages all the time_. She mused to herself. _I guess I did only say my name once-or twice._ She cringed to remember the rambling mess she had been when she first arrived on the island. It had only been the other night, but it already seemed a world away. Her face relaxed.

“It’s Sarah.” She reminded him at last. Felix stared disinterestedly back at her.

“Whatever you say.” He replied, turning lazily back towards the path. “Little bird. You coming or not?”

Sarah growled, but followed after him. Between her irritation with him and his naturally laconic tendencies, they walked in silence until their path started to steepen. When they came to a wall of boulders, Felix stopped. Stowing the club he carried on his back, he ambled quickly and nimbly over the rocks to the top. Much as she despised him, Sarah couldn’t help but be impressed. Her awe quickly changed to foreboding when she realized he meant for her to follow after him. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she tried to leap to the nearest ledge in the boulders, as she had seen him do.

This was a bad idea. She missed the ledge by several inches and instead collided painfully with the rock wall, bouncing off and landing in a heap. “Ouch…” She groaned. After a moment she stood, trying to shake the shock out of her bones. Her body in general had grown accustomed to a soft life of gentle hobbies such as reading, cooking, and the occasional needlepoint. It protested this new treatment loudly.

Felix’s voice floated down from above. “Looks like I’ll have to call you Sarah after all.” He drawled. “Since that was the worst attempt at flying I have ever seen.” Sarah reddened, her pride now injured much more than her bones. Gritting her teeth, she walked resolutely back towards the boulders. Eyeing it as though it were a snake that might bite her at any moment, she very carefully wedged her foot in a lower crevice. She reached her leg up to make the ledge-and missed. Subsequent attempts led to similar failure, as did an ill-conceived plan to try and grab the ledge with her hands and pull herself further up the wall.

At the top of the rock wall, Felix was enjoying the show. He could feel Sarah’s frustration growing as it rolled off of her in waves, and the nascent anger blooming in her eyes was nothing short of delicious. But at last, he realized he should probably intervene or Pan would get impatient-if he wasn’t already. “Need a hand?” His tone was even, but Sarah could still feel the smugness.

“No.” She told him curtly, reaching again for the ledge. “Thank you!” She jumped for it. “I’ve got it-UGH!” She let out a primal growl of frustration as she hit the ground-again. Grinning, Felix walked down the path leading from the base of the rocks to the top. Sarah stared. _There was a path._ She thought numbly. _A path. For walking._ She looked mutely from the wall to Felix several times. Her eyes narrowed into a hard glare and she felt rage boiling up inside her. _He’s going to pay for that,_ She seethed, and the many fresh scrapes she been gifted by her climbing attempts stung in agreement. _Don’t do anything stupid, Sarah._ Her more sensible self remonstrated, _He’s big, armed, and actually knows how to fight._ Thankfully for her, reason won out. _But I’ll make him pay someday_.

Not trusting herself to speak calmly, Sarah was silent as she traced the path up the boulder wall. Felix trailed after her, amused. He ducked ahead of her and led her along a narrow ledge. _I should push him off._ Sarah thought to herself, and was fantasizing about doing just that when the ledge widened out to a well-trodden clearing. They had to be close now, she could hear the murmur of water nearby. Felix pushed back a curtain of vines with his club, and tilted his head to indicate Sarah should go through.

The sight on the other side was beautiful.  A quickly running stream tumbled over mossy rocks, drops of water sparkling where the sun struck through the canopy. In this secluded niche, the water formed a shallow pool before winding its way through the other side of the jungle. Sarah caught her breath. It was almost beautiful enough to forget her lingering anger at Felix. Almost-but not quite. She stuck her head back through the vine curtain, glaring fiercely at him. “Just because Pan trusts you, how do I know I can?” She demanded suspiciously.

Felix swirled the stick in his mouth as a ragged grin stretched across his face. “I guess you don’t.” He told her, and her eyes narrowed further. Felix turned his head and spit the stick from his mouth. “But you’re not my type.” He added condescendingly. Sarah wasn’t sure whether this made her feel relieved or more annoyed, but as the boy settled down with his back to the pool, she ducked back through the vines. Glaring at the entrance the entire time in case Felix proved to be less trustworthy than he claimed, she hurriedly stripped off her pajamas and stepped into the pool.

It was deeper than it looked, coming just up to her shoulders. Sarah scrubbed at the dirt, blood, and other grit that had ground its way into her skin over the last day and night. Wincing at its tangled state, she undid what remained of her earlier braid and dunked her head under the water. Although ordinarily she would have relished the feeling of getting clean, the temperature of the water and her distrust of her escort led her to rush as fast as she could.

Still, when she ducked her head under to clean the twigs from her hair, she paused. There was a sound she hadn’t heard before, almost like-she breached the surface again, sucked in another breath, and went back under. _Whispers._ They were barely audible, and when she strained her ears she realised she wasn’t really hearing them at all. _I can feel them._ She thought to herself in wonder. The water hummed with them, and Sarah sat as still as she could, straining to make out the whispered words. Dropping back under the water, she wrenched her eyes shut and held her breath until her body was screaming for oxygen. She was rewarded for her efforts.

“ _She’s here.”_

Sarah plunged back out of the water, gasping for air. “You drowning in there?” Felix’s bored voice came muffled through the vines.

“No,” Sarah called back shakily. “No, I’m almost done.” Eyes darting around the pool now, she finished quickly and got dressed again in a hurry. Putting dry clothes over wet skin was not a pleasant feeling, but Sarah was too spooked to care. What had those strange voices been? And more importantly, why did they care about _her_?


	9. Camp

When Sarah stepped back out to the clearing, she was visibly shaking. Felix stood up slowly when she came out, stretching out the stiffness of leaning against rock. Though her skin was now clean, between the tangled wet hair, the ratty pajamas, and the loss of colour in her face, she looked if anything worse than before. “Better get used to it.” He told her when he noticed her shakes. “The water doesn’t get much warmer.” To his surprise, Sarah didn’t respond. In fact, she didn’t seem to register that he had spoken at all. “You looked pretty stupid splashing around in there.” He lied, trying to provoke a reaction. Nothing.

Sarah was lost in her own thoughts. _Maybe it was just a prank._ She told herself. _Felix led me this way and the other Lost Boys were hidden in the rocks or something._  She knew in her heart that wasn’t the case. She hadn’t just heard the voices, she had _felt_ them, as though they were a familiar part of her she had put on a shelf somewhere and forgotten. If she just thought about it hard enough, she was sure she could figure out why.

“Sarah!” Felix’s loud voice cut through her reverie at last.

“What?” Sarah snapped, angry to have been startled when she was just on the edge of a revelation. She saw Felix looking at her as though she were completely deranged, and remembered where she was. “I mean,” She said more calmly, trying to regain her composure, “What. Why are you yelling?” So far she had never heard Felix speak above a low drone, and the change was surprising. Not to mention, he had called her by her real name.

Felix stared at her a long moment more, trying to decide whether she was crazy or just trying to prank him. Finally he gave up-the good thing about being second in command was that some things were distinctly Not His Problem. Pan’s myriad passing interests were top of that list. “No reason at all.” He said at last, returning to his characteristically calmer register. “Time for us to get back to camp.” Turning, he started back across the ledge. With one more set of deep, steadying breaths, Sarah followed after him. When they reached the rock wall, Felix bounced nimbly over the side. Sarah took the path, not wanting to add any more scrapes to her rapidly-expanding collection. She caught Felix’s eye as he waited for her at the base. She could see the mocking grin forming at the corner of his mouth, so she pushed passed him and into the jungle. She’d conquer the boulders some day-but that day was not today.

Shaking his head, Felix lengthened his stride to get in front of her, course correcting so they would _actually_ end up back at camp. Lost in her own thoughts, Sarah was silent the rest of the way back.

-

Night was falling as they drew near the camp. Sounds of whooping, cheering, and drums carried through the hazy jungle air, setting Sarah freshly on edge. “What’s…going on?” She asked Felix slowly. Before he could answer, a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders from behind. She yelped and tried to struggle free of it, shooting Felix of all people a glance appealing for help. _Of course he wouldn’t help, that jerk._ She told herself.

“We’re having a little celebration.” A smooth voice flowed into her ear. “So glad you could make it back in time.” He let her go at last and cast a disapproving eye over her. Where did he get off doing that? “Though if anything, I’d say you look even more bedraggled than before.” Sarah had managed to force her tangled mess of hair back into a braid, but the damp and raggedy pajamas were not among her best looks, she knew.

“Well I’m sorry we didn’t have time to stop at the mall.” She told him testily, taking a step back so she’d have more warning if he decided to invade her space again. She had noticed he was awfully touchy, and she did not like it at all. _Are you sure?_ The most traitorous part of her asked. _Yes._ She told herself emphatically. She could own herself vulnerable to a bit of bad-boy charm, but unstable maniacals were another thing altogether.

“A what?” Pan asked, but then shook his head.  “Nevermind. These,” He waved his hand, and a bundle of dark fabric appeared in his hands. “Are for you.” Sarah took the bundle as though she expected it to leap up and bite her at any moment. Pan rolled his eyes. “It’s only clothes. I thought you might like them-” He smirked. “Since yours are such a mess.”

Sarah stuck the bundle resolutely under her arm. To hide the blush creeping over her face, she turned to march off into the jungle. “Don’t follow me.” She directed.

“Or,” She hadn’t gone far when Felix’s slow drawl caught up to her. “You could change in one of the tents?” She turned back around slowly, not wanting to acknowledge that this was indeed a much better option. “Especially since I doubt you could find your way back through even ten feet of the jungle.” Well, she had almost taken the smarter route. Lifting her chin to the air, she whirled back around and stalked back toward the jungle.

And bumped straight into Pan. _How did he do that?_ Her panicked mind demanded, before remembering that he had teleported the two of them once before. Still, to use it over such a short distance bordered on obnoxious. No, not bordered. _Definitely obnoxious._

“And where do you think you’re going?” His voice flowed down to her, laced with threat. Sarah suddenly felt the tent might be the best option after all. Still, she had started on his decision and she intended to see it through-or try to, at any rate.

She stepped back and looked off to the side. “To prove I can navigate through ten feet of jungle.” She tried to keep her voice casual, but Pan’s proximity made the venture an improbable one. 

“How very admirable.” He quipped. “Back to camp.” One glance at his face sent her slowly, begrudgingly back towards camp. Felix waited for her with a smug expression.

“Right this way, little bird.” She shot him a glare with little effect, but followed him through the camp to a canvas tent. It was smaller than the others, which she assumed meant the others slept multiple Lost Boys, and set back from the rest of the camp. For all her dreams of adventure, she had never been a fan of camping-but a tent was much better than a cage, and the idea of any privacy was appealing.

“Thanks.” She told her guide awkwardly. She wasn’t quite afraid of Felix any more, having spent such a large portion of the day with him, but he was still on her list for the stunt he had pulled at the rocks earlier. Felix raised an eyebrow, but then turned and walked away to join the boys in their celebration. As he’d told himself earlier, Not His Problem.


	10. Celebration

As Felix retreated to join the carousing, Sarah ducked into her new home. It was a small thing with about enough room for two of her laid width-wise and one and a half of her laid end to end. She had to stoop to avoid rubbing her head against the sloping canvas ceiling. A pile of rags, furs, and what appeared to be the largest leaves she had ever seen served as a pallet for sleeping. _Better than a cage,_ she mused, sinking on to it gratefully. _Or the ground_. It was surprisingly comfortable, though she supposed anything half-way soft would feel that way to her right now. She sat there for a long moment, reveling in the sweet feeling of rest, privacy, and calm. She had a feeling moments like this would be rare.

 _It could almost be called cosy._ She thought, looking around. When she spied a pair of sturdy looking boots tucked in the far corner, she grinned. Her feet all but wept in relief just to look at them, attired as they had been in nothing but a pair of short cotton socks. The boots also reminded her what she was meant to be doing here, and she set to the work of changing out of her much-abused pajamas. Folding them neatly, she set them in the corner with a murmur of thanks for the tribulations they’d seen her through. Her new clothing was much like the other Lost Boys’, serviceable brown trousers and a lighter long-sleeved shirt somewhere between beige and gray. Not the most fashionable of clothing, but it looked like it would hide dirt well. To top it off, the last of the pile proved to be a dark canvas cloak. It was a bit warm for it tonight, particularly with the long sleeves, but she liked the idea of having a hood to hide in.   _And maybe then people will stop breathing down my neck_. That settled it. She slipped the cloak, and the hood on.

She was just pulling the boots on when she heard footsteps approaching her tent. “Come on, Lost Girl. You’re missing the celebration.” Pan’s voice was impatient, so although she dreaded walking back out to the wild teeming mass of boys who hated her-especially compared with the much nicer prospect of drifting off in peaceful isolation-she finished pulling the boots on and stood up.

She poked her head through the flaps first, and sure enough found her nose about an inch from her unwelcome visitor. “Could you back up?” She deadpanned. He looked down at her scornfully, as though this were an incredibly unreasonable request, but acquiesced never the less. Sort of. With a rueful look in his eye he inched ever so slightly away from the entrance. Sighing, Sarah wriggled herself out at an angle to put the most possible distance between them.

Pan watched her with eyebrow raised. “I could almost be insulted by that,” he said dryly. “But tonight’s about celebration.” His eyes flashed as he said ‘celebration’, giving Sarah an uneasy feeling. So far when Pan was excited about something, it meant trouble. For her. Taking her by the arm, over her protests, he hauled her away to the campfire. All around it, boys were dancing, jumping, howling, and beating sticks. Some played drums to the side, cheering on their more active companions. Sarah’s eyes went wide when she saw the normally quiet Felix swirling and whooping with the rest of the throng. Pan looked down at her shocked expression with a smirk. “Exciting, isn’t it?” He shifted his gaze to the wild scene before them. “Watching people let themselves be free. Giving in to their impulses.” Sarah almost found herself agreeing with him when he pushed her roughly into the circle. “Your turn.” He grinned wickedly.

When the first Lost Boy bumped into her, the party came to a screeching stop. Sarah’s eyes went straight from passive observer to deer in the headlights as the interrupted revelers shifted their gaze towards her with dark looks. “Um,” Sarah stuttered nervously. “Woo?” Parties were never her strong suit.

To her surprise, it was Felix that came to her rescue-of a sorts. With a whoop, he scooped her up and swung her in a half circle, passing her off to another of the older Lost Boys who did the same until somehow, some way she had joined in with the mad chorus circling the fire. Separated from her own thoughts just as Pan had predicted, she let out a howl into the night as the boys gradually accepted her into their number. The party was back on.

For most of them. Cody was in no mood to celebrate, and had tucked himself against the comforting curve of a thick tree away from the fire. He poked viciously at the earth with a sharp stick, embroiled in all the dark thoughts his young mind could muster. _Stupid girl._ He thought. _Stupid girl tricking Pan into thinking she could be a Lost Boy._ He didn’t think it was possible to trick Pan, _the_ Peter Pan, but what else could possibly explain her presence in the camp, around the fire, at this very moment? He was so stuck in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice at first when Pan crouched down in front of him. When he realised it at last, he gulped, pressing back into the tree. “Pan!” He started, trying all at once to think of how he could get out of whatever punishment surely awaited him for failing guard duty “I-” Pan cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it, Cody,” he said quietly. “Our new addition is more dangerous than she looks.” He smirked. “But then I think you know that already, don’t you?” Cody felt the shame he had tried to cover with anger wash over him.   

“I’m sorry, Pan,” he said softly, refusing to meet his leader’s eyes. Pan sat down beside him, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

“What’s the best thing about being a Lost Boy, Cody?” He asked jovially. He picked up the stick Cody had been digging at the dirt with and began peeling at its bark. Cody looked down. “Never having to apologise. Which is why instead of that, you’re going to do something for me.” Cody looked over at his leader as Pan’s eyes danced with mischief. “Something I think you’ll enjoy.”

A short while later, Pan wandered back over to the fire. The newest addition to Neverland seemed at this moment a completely different person than the quivering mess the Shadow had dropped on the beach just last night. Her hood had fallen back, and her braid whipped arcs through the air as she spun and leaped about the fire. With her eyes sparkling with flame, Pan almost thought she looked pretty. Almost.  _Enjoy it while you can, Sarah,_  he mused privately. _Tomorrow the fun_ really _begins_. “Felix!” He called to his second in command, who ducked expertly out of the maddened crowd to attend his leader.  “I have a job for you.”

When Felix ducked out of the circle, Sarah’s own care-free spirit started to die down. Seeing the two boys most responsible for her trials thus far on the island talking so close made her tense. The looks on their faces did nothing to assure her between the knife’s-edge grin on Felix and the wicked smirk on Pan. That, and they kept looking at her. _What are they up to now?_  She wondered. She didn’t realise she had slowed down until another Lost Boy bumped into her. This time the boys were in too much of a frenzy to care or notice, so she slipped out of the circle and seated herself nearby to watch instead. The drumming mixed with the exhaustion of the day to lull her almost into a trance. For all the noise and excitement and energy, it was almost a peaceful thing to watch. Maybe Pan had been right earlier-

“Giving up so soon?” Speak of the devil. Pan crouched down next to her, tracing her line of sight to the fire. “And here I thought you were enjoying yourself.” His voice sounded suspiciously friendly, and Sarah found herself looking across at him in confusion. The crackling fire lit gold and red highlights in his tousled brown hair, and lent a rosy glow to his normally pale skin. As for his eyes…Sarah still had a hard time meeting them. When she chanced it for a moment, she wished she hadn’t. The shadows thrown by the fire made the cold darkness in his eyes dance.

 _I feel like I’m looking at a demon_ , she thought in shock-and perhaps she was. Demonic enchantment would certainly explain why she was finding it so hard to look away. After what felt like an eternity (though in actuality only a few moments), she managed to peel her eyes away, staring over the boy’s shoulder instead. “Just,” She started, her voice uneven. She cleared it, and tried again. “Just tired. Long day and all.”

Her obvious discomfort was like cake to Pan. “Best get used to it quickly,” he commented. “The days are only going to get longer.” He drew out the last word, widening his eyes as he did so. “And yours most of all.” Sarah’s stomach dropped.

“What…do you mean?” She asked cautiously. _I knew the friendly attitude was too good to be true._

Looking over at her, he grinned. “Let’s call it a surprise.” Sarah had never liked surprises, and she had a feeling she’d like Pan’s surprises least of all. When she didn’t respond to his needling, Pan sighed. “Rest up, Lost Girl.” He told her, standing. “Tomorrow we see if you really have what it takes to be a Lost Boy.” When he dropped something in her lap, her first instinct was to yelp. Who knew what fresh hell he might be trying to unleash on her? Pan just rolled his eyes. “Until then, I’d hate for you to faint because you’re too stupid to remember to eat.” He started walking back across the camp.

Sarah bristled at his insult, but looked down at the object in her lap. It was a large apple, huge even, with unnaturally perfect skin. No dent or scratch marred its polished green surface, and Sarah-or the fact that she hadn’t eaten since her mystery breakfast-thought it was the most delicious-looking thing she’d ever seen. “Is this poisoned?” She called after Pan’s retreating back.

“Only one way to find out.” He called back over his shoulder.

Having had quite enough for one day, Sarah retired to her tent. _Only one way indeed,_  she thought grumpily. Her stomach growled, informing her that it frankly didn’t care if the thing were dusted with arsenic and cyanide-it was more than done being patient with her. _Well, here goes nothing._ She took a bite.


	11. Hide and Seek

The next morning dawned cool and hazy. Sarah had devoured the questionable apple in its entirety and then fallen into the best sleep of her life, not even stopping to take her boots off before collapsing blissfully onto her pallet. This ultimately proved to be for the best, as she was awoken by shouts outside. Scrambling gracelessly upright, she pulled the edges of the flaps back just enough to peak outside- and fell backwards with a start as an arrow went whizzing right past her nose. _This is not what I signed up for._ She thought in a panic, trying to figure out the best plan of action to avoid getting skewered. _It certainly is_ , her mind snarked back at her, _Or didn’t you notice your new home is full of the violent and deranged?_

Not in the mood for snark from her own mind, Sarah dropped to the ground. She would stay low while she worked out her best course of action to avoid any arrows that might fly through her tent instead of just past it. She eyed the edges of the tent, but they were staked down too tightly for her to crawl under. She would have to leave out the front then-arrows or no arrows. She remembered from last night that a wide tree stood not far from the entrance to her tent. If she could dive to it, she would have some cover at least from whatever was happening in camp. Slowly, she undid the ties of the entrance flap. She moved up into a crouch, heart racing, and flung herself through the flaps-right into Pan. The boy had been waiting silently outside her tent to catch and surprise her when she inevitably stumbled out in a panic over the arrows he'd sent flying past. He enjoyed keeping her on her toes, and he wanted to start the morning off right. 

Unfortunately for him, he was anticipating a frightened stumble-not a human torpedo. Sarah was a bit more solid than she looked, and this unexpected weight added with the momentum of her adrenaline-fueled leap resulted in her knocking him to the ground in a heap. Not expecting Pan in her path any more than he expected to end up on the ground, Sarah froze for a moment in shock. _He’s very warm_. The back of her mind commented. _And he smells good-like damp earth and sun-warmed stone_. He had been a great deal in her space before, but lying on top of him was a different game entirely.

Pan recovered his composure first, smirking up at her. “If you wanted to get closer sweetheart, all you had to do was ask.” Sarah all but flung herself off of him. Laughing cruelly as he stood, he caught her wrist and pulled her up after him. “Are you this frightened of all the boys?” He asked her casually, then pulled her in closer to whisper in her ear. “Or am I special?”

Sarah tried to wrench herself out of his grip, stepping backwards-and tripping over a tent stake. This time Pan was prepared, and steadied her so she wouldn’t pull them both over again. “You really are hopeless, aren’t you?” He mocked, letting her wrist go at last. Glaring, Sarah stepped carefully away from her tent to put space between her, the tent stakes, and the deranged boy king. He laughed. “Now that you’re up, follow me.” He beckoned her towards the middle of camp, where Sarah realised the shouting had originated. She hadn’t seen any more arrows whizzing by, and wondered if maybe the Lost Boys just used weapons as alarm clocks.

Sarah hung back. “Follow you where?” She asked nervously.

“You’ll see.” Very cautiously, she followed behind him to the center of camp. He tossed her a hunk of bread as they walked, and she took a slow bite. “I’d eat quickly if I were you.” He called back to her. She gobbled the rest of it. She didn’t trust Pan, but she trusted that his tone meant something bad was probably about to happen to her. She’d definitely need her energy. When they reached the firepit, Sarah did not like what she saw. The Lost Boys were standing in groups staring at her. Well-armed groups.  Turning to look at her again, Pan grinned. “It’s time for another game.” He announced. Sarah looked frantically around the clearing, trying to figure out what was happening and if there was anything she could do to stop it. “Hide and seek.”

Sarah fixed her eyes back on him, wide with panic. “R-rules?” She squeezed out, stalling. Around her, the boys jeered and muttered to themselves.

“The rules are simple. We,” Pan swept his hand in a wide arc, and many of the boys hooted and grinned. “Will try to find you. When we catch you,” His face grew hard and dark. “You lose.” His use of when rather than if was a bad sign, Sarah knew. There were so many more of them, and she didn’t know the first thing about the island. “Your time starts now.” She opened her mouth to declaim the game as rigged, but stopped when she caught Felix’s eye.

Felix was grinning at her, a coterie of fierce looking boys at his back. “Better run, little bird.” He drawled, knocking his club against his shoulder. Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. She tore out of camp like a bat out of hell, with no idea where she was going or any regard for the leaves and vines slapping her in the face. She tucked her hood up as she stumbled through the jungle, hoping it would provide some protection. It wasn’t long before she heard the whoops and chants of the boys from the camp. _Some lead._ She thought. She was panting heavily now, never having been athletic. _Think Sarah, think!_ Her mind screamed at her. There was no way she could outrun them, she had to hide. She looked around frantically as she ran, searching for some place she could hide. The smooth-barked trees with their high branches seemed to mock her. No sheltering above, then.

Suddenly an idea struck her-what if she hid in plain sight? If she could somehow circle back to camp, she doubted they’d be expecting it- maybe she could wait there until they got bored. She realised now that Pan hadn’t told her how long she had to hide for. He probably didn’t think she would last long enough for it to matter. _And it won’t if you don’t do something soon!_ She scolded. The only question now was, how could she get back to camp without being caught? _The beach_ , her more rational mind offered. It had been dark when she first arrived on the island, but she remembered a number of large rocks that if she could make it to, might be a good spot to hide until her pursuers passed her by. Especially if she hid mostly in the water, they might not think to check there.

But which direction was the beach?  Sarah strained her mind as she ran on, lungs and legs screaming for a rest. The adrenaline gave her a boost, but even that wasn’t enough to conquer years of a sedentary lifestyle. She forced her way on, stumbling where the ground dipped in a shallow stream. _Jackpot!_ Sarah took one look at the way the stream was flowing, and changed course to follow its downstream path. The island couldn’t be _that_ large, she figured-so hopefully this stream would lead her to the ocean.

Sarah’s pace was slowing considerably, and by the time she smelled saltwater she had slowed to a gasping shuffle. With all the noise she was making, it shouldn’t have surprised her that she was easy game to track. Yet when the first arrow whizzed past her head, she shrieked. “Over here!” Rough voices called, and she heard human howls in the distance in response. She could see the beach now, but her plan to hide out was shattered. They knew where she was, and there was no escaping them in the jungle. With a fresh boost of adrenaline, she threw herself towards the beach.

The sand bar was narrow here, giving way to large rocks jutting out into the ocean. The bedrock of the island was here exposed in a sweeping arc, creating a sheltered cove that guarded the beach from the dangerous currents of long-shore drift.  It was a pretty sort of place, if one was in the right mindset to enjoy such things. 

Sarah was not. As she neared the cove the sounds of her pursuers dimmed. Chancing a glance over her shoulder, she saw them assembled at the edge of the forest, hanging back against the trees. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” One of her pursuers called. “Trust us, you’re much better off with us.” Another jeered. _I very much doubt it_. Sarah thought to herself. Seeing the sun glint off their weapons, she weighed her options. The boys were starting to drift down towards her, pressing her for time. She looked back over her shoulder- the water didn’t _look_ infested with sea monsters. She looked back to see one of her pursuers drawing back his bow. She dove into the water, pushing herself off the sandbar to get further out in the cove. When she looked back, the expressions on the Lost Boys’ faces were worrisome. They seemed to be waiting for something. For her to come back? _Not likely._ She thought testily. _The first Lost Girl indeed_. She swam farther out, staying near the rock wall to have some protection at her side.

A nearby splash made her whip her head back around. A beautiful woman floated in front of her. Her jet black hair, slicked back from the waves, looked striking against the ghostly pallor of her blue-tinged skin. Scales glittered at the corners of her eyes like elaborate makeup. Scales. _I should have listened to the boys after all_. Sarah told herself- even the Neverland mermaids in her children's books were dangerous and she felt incredibly stupid to have forgotten it. The woman grinned at her, and Sarah shuddered. Long, sharp teeth gleamed back at her as she felt her heartbeat move from her chest to her throat to her ears. This was it then.

“Hello there.” The woman’s voice was melodic, floating like gentle seafoam to Sarah’s ear. She stretched a webbed hand above the water, offering it to Sarah. It was lonely for a girl on an island full of boys. She’d been mistreated. Even now they were chasing her, not treasuring her as they should have done. Didn’t she need a friend? A very beautiful friend, who would show her such wonderful treasures, and laugh with her while stringing pearls through her hair to make her beautiful, too? Wouldn’t she like that? Sarah didn’t realise she was reaching her hand out to the merwoman, entranced, until the very last moment. When she snatched her hand away, the woman’s faced contorted to cruel anger. She lunged for Sarah's wrist, reaching to wrap her webbed claws around it and drag Sarah down to the deeps below. Sarah wrenched her eyes shut as the mermaid’s wet hand brushed her skin-and opened them again when the merwoman drew her hand back, screeching. “You!” The woman seethed, looking at her in shock and rage.

For her part, Sarah was just as surprised and stared down at her wrist as though it were a foreign object. The merwoman stared at her a long moment. Her eyes narrowed, then widened in discovery. “You…” She said again. This time her voice was soft with awe. Without another word, the merwoman flipped and swam away as quickly as she had appeared. Sarah sputtered in the splash from the merwoman’s tail. Trying to shake the water from her eyes, she remembered she wasn’t entirely out of danger yet. One deadly obstacle down, she turned slowly in dread of seeing an arrow whizzing towards her.

She needn’t have worried. Back on land, the boys were staring at her in wonder and confusion. They had lowered their weapons as the strange scene played out before them, fully expecting their quarry to be messily devoured in front of them. Seeing the looks on their faces, Sarah laughed loudly and nervously. “Does this mean I win?” She called back.


	12. Caught

Apparently, it didn’t. Sarah watched with dismay as several of the boys on shore lay down their weapons and began swimming towards her. Emboldened by surviving her second near-death experience in as many days, she didn’t want to give up just yet. She stole a glance up at the wall of the cove. The rocks here were more jagged than the ones she had so spectacularly failed to climb yesterday, which meant there were far more hand and footholds for her to take advantage of-provided they didn’t crumble beneath her. _And the wall isn’t_ that _high_ , she told herself. With the boys drawing closer, she grabbed for the nearest ledge. It held, as did the next one, and the one after that as she reached her feet successfully on the wall. She was doing it! With a whoop of victory, she scaled upwards about another foot-before Felix’s grinning face ambled into her view. _You forgot there were more of them on the beach, you idiot._ She scolded herself.

“Doing better than yesterday, little bird.” The blonde drawled. With his already prodigious height and his vantage several feet above her, he loomed like the giant from a fairy story. Sarah gulped. Between the boys in the water below and Felix on the ledge above, she was pinned. Her eyes darted about, seeking some other escape. “Looks like your time is up, Sarah.” The false cheerfulness of his tone no longer frightened her, but it did annoy her. She glared up at him. “Only question now is who you want to lose to.” He hefted his club from his shoulder. Sarah looked down at the Lost Boys gathered below, and back up to Felix. With a snarl of frustration, she pushed herself off the cove wall. Like hell she would lose to _him_.

She landed on one of the boys, which sent the others into whoops of laughter. A bevy of rough hands hauled her back to shore. She went quietly. She tried to tell herself it was because she was tired from her mad dash through the forest and that struggling wouldn’t accomplish anything anyway. _Nice try_ , her mind needled. _We both know you’re just sulking._ How rude! She most certainly was not. Much.

She continued to sulk as the victors tied her hands and feet with rope. She continued to sulk right up until one of them slung her over his shoulder, a younger teenager with a sturdy build and a wild shock of red hair.  She protested this treatment loudly. “I can walk just fine you know!” For a game, even one where they had been wielding real weapons, this was overkill. The Lost Boys, by comparison, were in high spirits. As they traveled through the jungle with their dripping prize, wild calls echoed between the groups. The one that had succeeded in catching her was by rights the most excited of all, laughing amongst themselves and rough-housing all the way back. “Look,” Sarah tried when they had gone a bit further into the jungle. “If you really want to do the whole “glorious conquerors” thing, why not just tie me back up before you actually walk into camp?” The boys didn’t respond to her. “Your arms would be less tired!” She insisted. _And my ribs would be a lot less sore_.

That did make an impression, though not in the way she had hoped. “Hey Arthur!” The boy holding her called out. His eyes glinted mischievously, though Sarah in her current predicament could not see them. “Catch!” Sarah flailed as wildly as she could given both her hands and feet were tied, landing with a crash against her new carrier.

“A gift, for me?” This boy was slightly older, maybe about the same age as Felix, with dark skin and a leaner build than her last confiner. Arthur slung her over his shoulder as well with exaggerated thanks.  “Xavier, you shouldn’t have.”  Sarah groaned.

“I hate you all.” She grumbled. Arthur laughed, and to her surprise, it sounded like it was with her rather than at her. An amused face popped up in front of her own, grinning. Judging by the familiar shock of red hair, this was Xavier-the boy who had just sent her flying through the air.

“Aww, not enjoying the game Lost Girl?” Xavier asked her, looking for all the world to be having the time of his life. “Maybe you should try getting better at it.” She glared back at him.

“I am going to knife you all in your sleep.” She told him flatly. The group surrounding her laughed, and Sarah felt strangely at ease considering she was traveling like a deer carcass. _Is this…_ she wondered, _Are we_ bonding _?_

“Come on now boys,” A familiar drawl drew her eyes up to see her second-least favourite person on the island. “Don’t you know that’s no way to carry a lady?” Felix swirled the twig in his mouth, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Arthur looked at her in mock surprise.

“I didn’t know we were carrying a lady.” He exclaimed. “I thought it was a Lost Girl.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us you were a lady?” His voice bounced with mock indignation. With a growing sense of dread, she watched as Felix tucked his club behind his back. Arthur whooped and sent her flying to the raggedy blonde. Wrapping one strong arm around her back and the other below her knees, he gestured at Arthur and Xavier.

 “That’s how you carry a lady.” Glaring, Sarah tried to fling herself over his hands and out of his arms. Granted, this style of carrying hurt her ribs less, but the damage to her pride was exacerbated by a factor of at least ten. Felix gazed balefully down at her. “I guess you were right boys,” He dropped her. “Not a lady after all." Sarah landed with a painful thud on a particularly pointy root. Still, she considered it an improvement.

“I’d rather crawl back to camp than be carried by _you_ ,” She informed him icily. Felix snorted.

“You couldn’t find your way back if you tried, little bird.” He stated it as fact, a fact Sarah knew she couldn’t yet deny. _Yet_. Still, she was stubborn enough to force her point. Maneuvering onto her knees, she stretched her bound hands out in front of her on the ground. Balancing her weight on them, she dragged her knees up. _This is going to take forever_. She thought grimly. Fortunately for her, she was saved from her own stubbornness by Xavier scooping her back over his shoulders.

“I’m not missing lunch waiting for an inchworm.” He told her flatly. Sarah just huffed.

By the time they arrived back at camp, her ribs were aching. As the group breached the clearing with their prize, the re-assembled Lost Boys cheered. “Boys!” Pan’s welcome boomed across the space. “I see you’ve caught yourself quite the prize.” The boys dumped her in front of Pan, who grinned down at her with eyes dancing. “Looks like you lose, Sarah.” He tsked. “Bad luck.” Sarah chose not to dignify that with a response. “But what should your punishment be for losing?”

“I had to listen to that bunch the entire way back to camp.” She snarked, jerking her head at Arthur and the others. The thinking part of her brain appeared to be out of commission. “Isn’t that punishment enough?” Arthur’s group laughed as the others “oohed” and jeered. Pan, on the other hand, simply smirked.

“No,” He began slowly. “No, I don’t think it is.” Sarah sighed heavily. She had a bad feeling about this. “Which is why we’ll be playing _another_ game after lunch.” Sarah stared up at him in impatient disbelief. Just how many games could his twisted mind come up with in a day?

“Bloody demon.” She grumbled, mostly to herself, but Pan heard her anyway. He grinned.

“Oh you’ve noticed have you?” His eyes widened, taking on a crazed appearance. “I’m _flattered_.” Sarah glared at the ground, not wanting to look up at Pan’s infuriating face. “Well, the rest of us are going to get lunch.” The Lost Boys, still laughing amongst themselves, ambled off. “You can join us-if you can get out of those ropes.” He walked off with a laugh, leaving Sarah in a quietly fuming heap.


	13. Lunch

This was a fine predicament they’d left her in. Sarah struggled uselessly against the ropes for several embarrassing minutes, trying to loosen them enough to slide out. _Ok, that’s not going to work._  All trying to wriggle out of her restraints was doing was chafing her wrists and reminding her of the uncomfortable seawater stuck in her boots. Wait. _Of course!_ She thought to herself. The ropes were tied tightly around her ankles, but the stiff boots came to just above her calf. If she could work her foot out of the boot, she’d be able to walk again at least. Sarah balanced herself on her elbows, pinning her left boot to the ground with her other foot, and commenced her extraction attempt. She lost her balance several times, but at last was rewarded for the dirt on her side and in her mouth with a freed foot. “Ah-HA!” She shouted in triumph. She couldn’t put the boot back on yet, but now at least she could walk.

Now for the hard part. The knot standing between her and food was on the outside of her wrists, and although she tried she couldn’t quite reach it with her teeth to tug it apart. If she could just get it out further, even an inch or so, she could probably work herself free. Determined now, she cast her eyes about camp, looking for something she might be able to hook it on. _Bingo_. The stakes she had so despised this morning would prove to be her salvation; The curved heads that held the loops of the tent walls to the ground were just what she needed. She sank to her knees next to the least pounded-in one she could find, and set to work. Slowly, frustratedly, and with the occasional ejective, she managed to slip the stake between the knot and the rest of the ropes. With the knot pushed out an extra half-inch or so, she managed to bite down on it. _I hope they’re all too busy eating to come back over here_ , she thought. Kneeling over a tent stake with one shoe off, tugging on the knot with her teeth, she wasn’t at the moment the picture of grace.

 At last, the knot came free. With a shout of victory, she stood up, pulling her hands free of the rope. Looking down at her wrists, she winced to see pale welts rising where the rope had chafed at her skin. Those were going to be a problem till they healed up, she was sure of it. For now though, it was lunch time. Glorying in the freedom of using her hands, she knelt to remove her other boot, shaking the water from it before sliding it and the other boot back on. She hated the feeling of wet shoes and socks, but didn’t want to be caught barefoot if she had to run for her life again. _Knowing Pan,_ she thought with a sigh, _It will be when, not if._

Picking up the vanquished ropes, she walked towards the sounds of hooliganism. Arthur and Xavier cheered when she arrived. She glared at them in response, then shifted her attention to the assembled crowd. Scanning it, her eyes narrowed. Pan’s back was turned to her, discussing something with Felix and the boy who had let her out of the cage. His stance was casual, a half-eaten apple in his hand. Seeing him so relaxed after the morning she’d had, she felt her irritation bubble up until it was just a hair from anger. Eyes flashing, she lifted her hand and flung the ropes as hard as she could at Pan’s back.

Her aim was poor. They glanced off just below his left shoulder blade and snaked to the ground in a heap. Pan kneeled, picked them up, and turned slowly to look at her. He was smiling, but it was far from a friendly one. _I should not have done that._ She thought in a panic. The cold darkness danced in Pan’s eyes and his companions fell quiet as he stared her down. Sarah forced herself to keep an even face, staring at his shoulder so she wouldn’t have to see the calculating look in his eye.

“Lost Girl,” When he spoke at last, he smirked. Sarah released her held breath-smirks were less dangerous than smiles. He held the ropes aloft. “Took you long enough.” He tossed them to the ground and turned back to his discussion. Sarah was dismissed. She glared at his back a minute longer until her growling stomach reminded her why she was so irritated in the first place. She looked around, seeing plenty of boys with food but none lying around. She did, however, see familiar faces.

Quietly, carefully, she walked to the circle where Arthur and several other Lost Boys sat listening to Xavier as he wildly gestured in a dramatic retelling of some grand adventure or other. In his hand was a stick of grilled meat. Arthur saw her as she approached Xavier from behind, but something in the look on her face kept him quiet. Although she didn’t know it, her hanger had lent quite the fierceness to her gaze. Standing just behind the red-haired Lost Boy now, she waited until he gestured again with the hand holding his lunch-and then stole it from his grip. “What-” the boy growled in surprise, whirling around with a look of anger on his face. Sarah backed up instinctively, though when he saw who it was that had stolen his food, his expression shifted to one of confusion.

“I’m taking this as reparations.” She told him flatly. Aghast, he looked from the meat, to Arthur, to the meat again.  

“Reaper-what?” One of the other boys in the circle asked. He looked to be about twelve, with coppery-brown hair over caramel skin. His eyes were a bright green and his voice carried the faintest trace of an accent. She couldn’t quite place from where.

“Reparations.” Sarah enunciated, head pridefully aloft. “It’s when people who do terrible things that result in suffering have to give up their nice things to the person they made suffer.” She narrowed her eyes. “So that the universe doesn’t punish them for their crimes.” The younger boy gazed back at her suspiciously.

“That sounds made up.” He told her resolutely. She tilted her head with eyebrows raised in a delicate shrug, then tore a bite out of Xavier’s ex-lunch. With this fresh offense, Xavier growled.

“Don’t think I won’t punch you just because you’re a girl-” He faltered a moment, realising he actually had no idea what her name was. “…Lost Girl.” He finished, setting his face. Sarah took another huge bite, chewing and swallowing with exaggerated slowness.

“Sarah.” She corrected him. “And it took a whole group of you to go after just one of me, so sorry if I don’t think much of your threat.” _Please stop talking._ Her more rational self begged. _You are being really stupid right now._ Sarah didn’t much care, the events of the morning having put her into a particularly prickly mood. Arthur, across the circle, snorted-he didn’t think much of her bravado. Xavier’s eyes narrowed, and he smiled.

“I think it’s time you had a true Neverland welcome.” He told her, a vicious twinkle in his eyes. _I TOLD YOU._ Her wiser self screamed at her. _Yeah, well,_ she told it as Xavier advanced towards her, _You always were the smarter one._ Sarah’s arms came up too late, and the first punch across her face sent her staggering back. She was quicker the second time, catching the blow on her forearms. The other Lost Boys turned to watch this exciting new development. Brawls were an every day occurrence in camp, but it wasn’t every day that one included a girl.

When Xavier threw his next punch, Sarah ducked under it to get behind him. A few boys cheered, a few booed, other yelled comments at one or both of the fighters. “You got in one good punch,” Sarah panted, “Don’t make me stab you with this stick.”

“You couldn’t if you tried!” He shouted at her, but the tone in his voice was lighter than before. He whirled around to get another punch in when to his surprise, Sarah grabbed his legs just below the knee. Grunting, she stood-and his center of gravity sent him tipping over her shoulder. Unfortunately for her, her inability to actually support his weight meant she flipped too. The two ended up in a heap side by side. Sarah groaned painfully-that had not been one of her better ideas. Xavier, to her surprise, started laughing. “What was that?” He asked her. The lunch they’d fought over lay sadly in the dirt, abandoned by both in the tousle.

“Center of gravity.” She told him through gritted teeth. Her body was sending fresh complaints over her most recent injustices towards it. “Yours is higher than mine- theoretically I wasn’t supposed to flip too.” Xavier sat up, but Sarah lay awhile longer on the nice, solid earth. _That’s odd._ She mused. As she lay her hands on the ground, it felt as though her pains were ebbing away. _Maybe that punch knocked something loose and I’m hallucinating_. If it was, she didn’t care too much just now-it was a _nice_ hallucination.

“Sarah?” Arthur’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“What?” She groaned.

“I said, how did you know that?” She had been so caught up with her own thoughts she hadn’t heard him the first time. He snorted. “Since it’s clear you didn’t learn it from any actual fighting.”

She sat up slowly, squinting. Hallucination or no, her face still hurt like heck. She gave him a half hearted shrug, wincing as her shoulder informed her it was by no means happy about moving after having been tossed against the ground. “I tried to pick up a friend once who was taller than me, and he almost tilted over my shoulder before I set him down. Thought I might as well try it.” She grimaced. “Remind me not to have any more thoughts.”

The Lost Boys fell silent as a series of long, slow claps broke through the air. The boys parted like the red sea as their leader stepped towards the brawlers. “ _Very_ nicely done.” He said dismissively, glancing down his nose at Sarah. “But I think that’s quite enough excitement for now.” His voice was bored, and Sarah shifted uncomfortably. He looked back up to address his kingdom. “I’m afraid there's been a change of plans, boys.” His voice flowed out to fill the space as Sarah cautiously got to her feet. She didn’t want to be prone for whatever fresh nonsense Pan was about to unleash. “The game is off for today. Go entertain yourselves…” His eyes flashed. “Somewhere else.” The boys were silent a moment, but then broke into howls and chants as they disappeared into the jungle. Sarah turned to follow after them. “Not you, Lost Girl.”  Sarah shut her eyes and turned slowly back around.

“What is it now?” She whined, opening her eyes. Pan’s face was hard and his eyes bored into the back of her skull.

“I’ve heard you had quite an interesting day.” A familiar trepidation crept over her. What did he mean by interesting? “So we’re going to your favourite place for a little _chat_.” As he reached for her, Sarah turned tail and ran. She didn’t know what her “favourite place” was, but she had a bad feeling about it-and about “chatting” with Pan in general. Pan appeared in front of her, blinking. “You didn’t think that would work,” he glanced off to the side and back at her, lowering his head. “Did you?” She ducked under him to try again, but as she did so he grabbed her ankle. She fell flat on her face. “Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.” He looked down at her, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Why do you have to do this the hard way?”

“Don’t feel like talking.” Sarah grumbled into the ground. She lifted her face, spitting out a leaf, and looked back at Pan. “And if we have to talk, what’s wrong with here?” Pan tilted his head. Opening his mouth, he paused a moment.

His tongue snaked over his lips. “Now where would be the fun in that?”


	14. Shadows

Sarah shut her eyes as a puff of dark red smoke surrounded her and Pan. When the smoke faded, he dropped her ankle and she heard the familiar crash of waves and roar of wind. _Not this again_. She begged silently. As tired as she was from the morning, she didn’t think she’d have the strength to hang on to the edge of any cliffs today. “So tell me, Sarah,” Pan called, pitching his voice above the wind. “Just how is it that you’re sitting here in front of me and not at the bottom of mermaid lagoon?” That’s what this was about? The mermaid? Sarah gazed up at him in shock.

“I’ve no idea.” She told him truthfully. “And how did you even know about that?” Did he have hidden cameras all over the island or something? She shuddered at the thought.

“I know everything that happens on my island.” He informed her.

“Then why don’t you know why the mermaid let me go?” The question slipped out before she could stop herself. Pan crouched down to look at her, snarling.

“What an excellent question.” His voice was low and hard, brimming with unspoken threat. “Why don’t you tell me?” Sarah scrambled backwards on her hands, shaking her head furiously.

“I don’t know.” She whispered softly. Evidently her earlier survival of death by mermaid had only been a snooze alarm for danger. Whatever had happened there had awoken Pan’s anger, and Sarah was not at all certain she would survive it. “I just-she touched my arm and screamed, I don’t know why.”

“What else?” Pan demanded.

What else? “I-nothing else, I didn’t do anything else!” Pan took a step towards her and stared fiercely down at the petrified girl, looming over her like the angel of the grave.

“She recognised you.” It was a statement rather than a question. “Why did she recognise you, Sarah?” His voice took on an almost sing-song quality. “What are you not telling me, little bird?” Breathing heavily now as the adrenaline coursed through her system, Sarah only shook her head at him again, eyes wide with fear and confusion. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her stumbling to her feet. “You see,” He started, “Here I thought you were just another lost little girl,” He paused, snorted, and continued. “Well, maybe not quite so little. But something tells me you’re more than that, aren’t you? It makes sense, I suppose. My shadow took you even though you’re a girl. You knew who I was and where you were before I even told you.” He paused, saying nothing for a long, long moment. When he spoke again it was quietly, carefully. “Did someone send you to my island, Sarah?”

“No!” Sarah insisted. “No one sent me to Neverland, I thought it was just a children’s story I was too old to still believe in, I swear.”

His grip on her wrists tightened and Sarah winced, the raw places from her earlier entrapment stinging under his harsh touch. “I don’t believe you.” He whispered in her ear. Sarah closed her eyes, shuddering under his warm breath. “Why. Did. The mermaid. Recognise you? There are lots of fun ways to make you tell me, little bird.” He told her, his voice light with a sick joy. “You know that, don’t you Sarah?” Tears pricked at her eyes and Sarah bit down on her tongue. She would not cry in front of Pan. She would not.

“I-” She stuttered out. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know! No one sent me!” Pan’s eyes grew even harder, swirling with a dark fire. She didn’t realise she was straining to pull away from him until he pulled her roughly back. The force knocked her off balance, and she swung a moment aloft in Pan’s grip before she found her feet beneath her once more.

“Now you see, that’s too bad.” His voice dripped venomously with mock sympathy. “For you that is. _I’m_ going to have a lot of fun.” With that he released one of her wrists and spun her around. She tried to put distance between them in this moment of freedom, but before another moment had passed he was holding both her arms behind her back, pointing her towards the cliff face. “Ahh, isn’t this nostalgic?” He announced. “It seems just yesterday we had our first date here together.”

Sarah felt something within her snap. She had dreamed all her life of finding a magical world, but since coming here she’d been threatened, chased, imprisoned, and almost died at least twice, not for some big cause or grand adventure, but for the amusement of the boy behind her. She was done. Pan felt the tension build in her arms as she stiffened and smirked, thinking she was freezing over again in fear. He only wished her could see her expression, the way her eyes went wide and her nostrils flared as she lost herself to the panic he inflicted. “Let go of me.” Her voice carried back to him soft and hard. Pan only laughed.

“Or what?” He breathed. Sarah didn’t flinch. She wasn’t shaking anymore either, and her breathing, though still shallow, was steadying.

“I will break you.” Pan’s face contorted the briefest of moments with confusion. The words didn’t sound like Sarah’s, nor did the hard edge of malice sliding around her voice. This was different. He whirled her around to look at her face and widened his eyes. Though Sarah’s features were all still there, something familiar yet foreign stared back at him from her steely expression. Dancing behind her eyes, smaller but no less dark, were the shadows he knew so well from his own.  His expression darkened, shadows rising to meet shadows as he snarled at her threat.

“You think you can break me?” He demanded. “I am _king_ on this island. Every leaf, every vine, every drop of water orders itself to my will.” Something about Sarah had always unsettled him, but her response made even his stomach turn over unpleasantly, in motions of fear he hadn’t felt in a century. Sarah’s eyes flashed as her face split slowly into a hard-gashed grin. For the first time since coming to the island, she met his eyes and held them.

“If that’s true,” She asked, “Why are you afraid?” Pan held her gaze, his face contorted with anger. How dare this girl, this stupid girl from the land without magic claim that he, Peter Pan, was afraid? He ought to throw her from the cliff, put an end to the problem of Sarah once and for all. But something in the back of his mind stopped him. _How long has it been,_ it asked him, _since you had a real challenge?_ Slowly, the expression on his face shifted, smoothing from anger into a slow, sliding smile. He pulled her closer, leaning down so he was mere inches from her face.

“Oh we’ll see who’s afraid,” he told her lightly. His eyes gleamed. “Lost Girl.” With that he vanished, leaving Sarah on the cliff face alone.

When he disappeared, Sarah’s body relaxed and it felt as though a cloud lifted from her mind. “What…” She wondered aloud. “What was that?” A part of her suspected. She was pretty good about keeping herself in check now, but she could remember having a nasty temper from the time she was small. There had even been a few times where she’d said or done something in her anger without even registering she was doing it, but…this felt different. It felt darker. Sarah shivered. It frightened her. She thought back too to when she’d escaped her cage, threatening and intimidating a child no older than ten. She worried that the island was changing her into someone else, someone she didn’t like. Or even worse, what if…what if it was revealing who she’d always been? She looked out across the ocean, searching for an answer she couldn’t find. At last, with a sigh, she turned back towards the jungle. Somehow, she’d set herself straight again, whatever this island and its demon king threw at her. But for now…Sarah’s eyebrows wrinkled with a new and more pressing problem. With no real knowledge of the jungle, how in the heck would she get back to camp?


	15. Home

Setting her shoulders back, Sarah strode through the tree line and into the jungle. With no idea where she was in relation to camp, she figured a straight-ahead course was as good as any other. At any rate, it was better than standing still. She kept a steady pace as she walked, not wanting to use up all of her energy when she didn’t even know if she was going the right way-who knew how long she might be wandering around?

She’d been walking about twenty minutes when it began to rain. _Well,_ she mused, _At least it will wash the salt water off._ The drops fell sparse and slow at first, but soon gave way to a heavy downpour. The huge drops drove to the ground with such speed that Sarah could barely see the path in front of her. She sighed in exasperation. If she tried to press on blindly, who knew what she might run in to. No, better to find some place to wait it out. She looked around her for somewhere dry, or at least less flooded. The pickings were slim. She lifted her hands over her eyes, trying to block some of the incoming rain enough to get a further view into the jungle. There! She couldn’t make out what it was, but off to the left of the path she’d been traveling, she could see the faint outline of something large and stationary. Maybe a rock? Whatever it was, it looked big enough to provide her with a bit of shelter to wait out the storm. Determined now, she plowed through the rain.

As she approached, the form of the thing became clearer until at last she saw it was, in fact, a large stone. Rather than a boulder like the rest of the rocks she’d seen scattered across the island, this stone did not quite appear natural. The rest of the rock she’d seen on the island was felsic, light in colour with a fine grain. The mafic monument before her gleamed with dark majesty, spiked through with blades of hornblende.  Forgetting the rain that had led her to the stone in search of shelter, Sarah reached her hand out in wonder. Her fingers brushed lightly over the surface, feeling the cool surface of the crystalline matrix.

Sarah yelped as the rock began to glow. Quickly she snatched her hand away, and the glowing at once ceased. _This is weird_. She told herself. _This is very weird, and I don’t think I like it._ Cautiously, she reached her hand out again. Sure enough, when her fingers touched the surface, the glow resumed. Sarah knit her brows and took a deep breath. Then, she pushed forward till her whole palm was resting on the slick black surface of the rock. She waited a moment…and nothing happened. She drew her hand back, laughing at herself. What had she expected to happen? _Sarah._ She jumped as an unfamiliar voice sounded in her mind. “Who’s there?” She called. Maybe one of the Lost Boys was playing a trick on her…in her own mind…somehow. Nothing answered. _Welcome home._ The voice said again, and she looked around frantically. “What?” She asked aloud. This wasn’t home, her home was back with her parents in her boring mundane life. “What do you mean?” No answer came. The glow in the rock subtly faded, and at last Sarah crouched down beneath it, hiding from the downpour as she’d originally planned.

Sarah waited there beneath the stone until at last the downpour faded into a light drizzle. She could see again. “Well,” Sarah began cautiously as she stood. “Um, goodbye I suppose. Whoever you are.” She gave the rock an awkward curtsy, but it remained inert. No voice spoke, and not even a glint of light showed from the once-glowing rock. With a stiff nod, Sarah turned and walked back through the trees, away from the strange stone in what she hoped was the direction of the camp. As she walked, one last, faint voice echoed through her mind. _Don’t let him win._ She paused, turning-but there was nothing there. Letting out a shaky breath, she pressed on.

She’d been wandering about an hour when the trees grew sparser, the rich earth under her feet giving way to sand. At the sound of the waves, she groaned. She’d walked all the way to the other side of the island, and no sign of the camp. Now what? She stood a moment in hesitation, reluctant to start another hour and a half trek for nothing. She stared out across the water as she had at the cliffs. “I guess Lost Girl is the right epithet after all.” She mumbled to herself. She looked back to the dark jungle. Its thick shadows seemed almost to be taunting her. “I don’t think so.” She told it flatly, and set to walking along the beach. She thought if she found the cove where the mermaid had been, maybe she could retrace back to the camp from there. If not…she glanced at the sun’s position in the sky. She was in for a rough night.

The sand made for difficult walking, so she moved up a few feet to skirt the treeline. As she walked, she thought about what had happened in the forest. And with the mermaid. And at the waterfall. As crazy as it seemed, the island and its inhabitants recognised her, like Pan had said. But how? Something familiar tugged at the back corner of her mind. It felt like she’d woken up from a dream she couldn’t quite remember. Now that she thought about it, there was that weird feeling from the cliffs before as well, and in camp-as though the ground were giving her strength. A crazy thought slipped into her head. She slowed to a stop and knelt to the ground. She looked around, suddenly nervous someone might be watching her. She spread her hands, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Neverland?” She whispered softly. The ground beneath her hands warmed. _Oh my gosh._ This couldn’t be happening, could it? She had to be imagining it. “Do you…know me?” She felt something brush over her hand, and opened her eyes. They widened in shock. From the ground around her hands, delicate shoots were emerging, spreading leaves, twining over her hands. Her face splitting into a grin, she laughed. This was incredible! But…how could it be? And why? “How?” She asked the island, watching in fascination as the new growth twined and danced over her hands. A warm voice flowed in the back of her mind. _Not yet._ It said. Sarah knit her brows in confusion. _You are not ready yet._ With that, the leaves stopped moving, ordinary plants once more. Sarah sat there a while longer in wonder. Ready for what? And when would she be ready? A feeling of joy bubbled over, washing through her entire being. “This,” She breathed. “This is awesome!” Her voice rang out over the crashing waves.

With a renewed vigour, she stood. She might not know the way back to camp, but the island of Neverland knew her. Her! She could certainly handle a little jungle. Brimming with overconfidence, she set her feet back towards the jungle, angling herself away from her earlier path so as not to retrace failed steps. As she walked, a faint light flashed in front of her. She stared at the spot where it appeared. It flashed again, a few feet off. Intrigued, she followed after it. Every few feet the light would blink again, winding through the jungle. Sarah grinned. “Thank you, Neverland.” She whispered. It might have been her imagination, but she thought the leaves of the trees shook in response.

When the sounds of wild boys came into hearing the light blinked out a final time. “Thank you.” Sarah told it again, then walked slowly to the tree line. After the scene on the cliff, she wasn’t entirely certain what welcome she could expect at camp. Things looked normal- the boys were much as she’d seen them when she first arrived, laughing or playing or working. She took a careful step into the clearing-and yelped when a familiar arm slung across her shoulder.

“Lost Girl.” Pan said plainly. ‘You made it back after all. And here I thought I’d have to send out a search party.” Sarah looked at him sidelong, trying to figure out what he was up to. He sounded friendly again, a far cry from the sadistic madman who had questioned her on the cliffs. And of course, there was the matter of her angry self threatening him. What had she said? That she’d break him? Sarah had a feeling she’d live to regret those words. Seeing her confusion, Pan smirked. “Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten our game, Sarah. First thing tomorrow, you and I are going to spend some quality time together.” Sarah looked at him aghast.

“What game?” She had a feeling she knew, and a stronger feeling that there was no good answer. She tried to step away from his offending contact with her person, but his arm only tightened.

“Why Sarah,” his voice was mocking. “The game where you try to, oh what was it?” His eyebrows twitched. “Break me?” The smirk deepened, and his eyes glinted mischievously. He leaned down to whisper in Sarah’s ear. “But we’ll see who breaks first.” Sliding his arm from her shoulders, he walked off. Sarah stared after him. _This,_ she thought, _this will_ not _end well_.


	16. Fire

Sarah remained still, trying not to panic that the maniacal boy king was going to try-actually try-to break her. _Deep breaths, Sarah._ She told herself. She schooled her face to calmness and put one foot in front of the other through the camp. “Sarah!” Arthur’s voice called from nearby. Slowly, she turned her head to see him waving her over to where he stood with several boys she did not yet know. Cautiously, she walked towards them. Arthur offered her a bowl of something warm, which she took gratefully. “You ok?” He asked her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Sarah looked at him, blinking.

“Something like that.” She told him at last. She may not have seen one, but she had a feeling she might become one soon.

“Ghosts aren’t real.” A young voice declared. She looked over to see the green-eyed boy from earlier, the one who’d doubted reparations existed.

“You have a lot of opinions for someone so young.” She told him. The boy shrugged.

“I am probably older than you.” Sarah looked at him a long moment. She didn’t quite know how time passed on the island, but there was a very good chance he was right. Still, she resented being talked down to by someone so much shorter than her.

“You might be older,” She told him primly. “But I’m still taller-and this is Neverland, so I always will be.” The boy narrowed his eyes at her, but then shrugged.

“At least I know my way around the jungle.” He told her casually. The other boys laughed, and Sarah bristled. _Stop getting into fights with children,_ she told herself. Biting back whatever remark she’d been about to make, she took a bite of the stew in her bowl.

“I suppose you do.” She told him finally. The boy’s eyes sparkled with victory. Sarah resigned herself to her dinner, swallowing it down with a hefty side of annoyance.

“Don’t mind Rasheed.” Arthur told her, gesturing to the boy. He grinned, and pitched his voice louder so the subject could hear him clearly. “He’s just covering for the fact that he’s the _worst shot in camp_!”

“Better than her!” Rasheed called back. It was probably true, but that was hardly a fair comparison-she’d only just arrived, and who knew how many years he’d been here. Sarah noticed that one of the boys in the mix wasn’t laughing with the others. In fact, he was glaring at her with a vengeance that made her wonder exactly what she had done to him. Spiky dark hair stood in contrast to pale white skin and stormy gray eyes. He looked to be about her age, or at least he looked as though he’d come to the island when he was about her age. Who knew how long any of the boys had actually been alive for. She stared back at him, her expression blank, meeting his glare with a schooled non-reaction. The boys around them feel silent as the two engaged in a silent battle of wills. Long moments passed until at last, someone grew impatient.

“What are you two doing?” Rasheed demanded. Sarah tilted her head to the side as she continued to stare, waiting for the other boy to answer. _She_ certainly had no idea what had started this. The boy narrowed his eyes.

“She shouldn’t be here.” He said at last, eyes still fixed on Sarah with a shimmering venom. “Girls don’t belong on Neverland.” Sarah said nothing, continuing to stare at the boy. It was an old trick she’d used on bullies in school-stare at most anyone for long enough, and they quickly grew uncomfortable. Sure enough, the boy at last broke his gaze. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” He grumbled, mostly to himself. “Won’t last the week.” The hair on Sarah’s neck prickled at his suggestion.

With her eyes still locked on him, she spoke at last. “We’ll see about that.” She told him coolly. She might have been afraid of Pan, but she wasn’t afraid of a single Lost Boy. Especially-her eyes twinkled-when she remembered that the island itself wanted her here. A slight smile crept onto her face. With a derisive snort, the dark-haired boy left the group. When she looked back to the group, Arthur was observing her with a strange look on his face. She scrunched her brows. “What?” She asked him. Hopefully she hadn’t just made an enemy of someone important.

“You’re a curious sort of girl, Sarah.” He told her at last, a questioning note in voice. Sarah shrugged. It certainly wasn’t the first time she been told that-and many times in less pleasant words.

“Have you known all that many?” Pan had said she was the first Lost Girl, but Felix had said it had been a long time since there’d been a girl on the island-implying that at some point, there had been another girl on the island. Something dark flickered behind Arthur’s eyes.

“Unfortunately.” His voice carried a hint of steel. He blinked, shaking his head. “No offense to you, of course.” His jovial nature returned, but Sarah wondered just what had happened to bring him to Neverland in the first place.

“Well,” She began awkwardly, not sure what to say. “Thanks, I guess-for the exception.” She lifted the bowl. “And dinner, of course.” She was thankful for that most of all.

“Can’t have you starving to death before Pan kills you!” He said cheerfully. Sarah looked at him aghast. “Word travels fast.” He told her, his face stretching into a lopsided grin. Even if he was enjoying the prospect of her imminent demise, Sarah was glad for once to see a smile that didn’t spell immediate trouble for her from the wearer. No, Arthur’s grin was genuine. She liked him, she decided, even if he had carried her tied up through the forest. Still, his unpleasant reminder of the fate awaiting her tomorrow morning quenched her appetite. She rolled her head back to gaze up through the trees.

“I’m screwed, aren’t I?” She asked no one in particular. Arthur only laughed.

“What is ‘screwed’?” Rasheed asked.

A short time later, Sarah made her way to her tent. Tying the flaps firmly closed behind her, she pried the still-damp boots off her feet. She sorely wished they’d be dry by morning, but she didn’t carry all that much hope. Her socks came off too, and as she looked at the bedraggled things, she sighed. What she wouldn’t give for a clean, dry pair of socks after all her time mucking about in sea and rain and forest. Sarah scrunched her face, feeling something soft under her head. She looked down, and barely contained a shriek of joy. “Oh Neverland,” She whispered in ecstasy. “I love you so, so much.” Beneath her hands, just as she had wished for, was a pair of clean dry socks. Gifted with this small piece of paradise, Sarah lay down on her pallet and drifted into a restful sleep.

\---

“Rise and shine, little bird.” Pan’s far too chipper voice called from outside her tent. Sarah arose grimly, slipping on her mostly-dry boots and stretching away the night’s stiffness as best she could in the small tent. Undoing the tent ties slowly, she peeked out into the camp. When she saw Pan was standing a few feet away, she exited, tying the tent flaps closed. She yelped when she turned around- he was only inches from her.

“Why do you keep doing that?” She demanded, face flushing.

“Doing what?” His voice was innocent, but there was a wicked gleam in his eye. Sarah side-stepped around him, being careful to avoid the tent stake this time.

“Personal space, have you heard of it?” She asked testily. Pan laughed.

“Like I told you, this is my island. And that means everything on it is mine, including your,” He gestured to the air, as if searching for a word. He tilted his head as her narrowed his eyes at her. “Personal space.” Sarah growled. “Oh there’ll be plenty of time for that.” He told her. “Follow me.”

He turned to walk out of camp and into the jungle, but Sarah lagged behind. “Follow you where?” She asked cautiously. “If I’m going to die anyway, I’d just as soon not have to walk first.” Pan scrunched his eyebrows, looking at her in confusion.

“Why do you always think I’m going to kill you?” He asked, the curiosity in his voice sounding almost genuine.  Sarah stared at him in disbelief.

“Because you’re an unstable sadist with poorly controlled sociopathic tendencies?” She suggested drily. Pan sighed.

“I may not be the most well-behaved boy on the island,” He began, eyes flashing, “But I’m not so bad as you think.” Sarah eyed him as though he were a snake which might bite her at any moment. Did her expect her to believe that, after everything he’d done? “Which is why today, I’m even going to help you.” Her face twisted in concerned confusion. What exactly did he mean by “help”? She wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. “You see Sarah, I noticed something…” He paused. “ _Interesting_ about you yesterday, during our little chat.” Sarah didn’t like where this was going. Pan had walked back towards her now, and as he closed the distance between them she felt her muscles stiffen. He met her eyes for a moment before she forced hers away. “You and I are more alike than you think.”

Sarah drew her head back and snorted. “I am _nothing_ like you,” She proclaimed. Pan smiled maliciously.

“Are you so sure about that?” He asked her. “After all, your little,” He paused again. “Outburst, shall we say, that was practically looking in a mirror.” Sarah bristled, her lips drawing back in a snarl. “And then of course there’s poor Cody.” He looked at her in mock disappointment.  Who the heck was Cody? “Threatening a child- not one of your prouder moments, was it?” Oh. _That_ was Cody. Still, those were exceptional circumstances. It’s not like she went around threatening people for fun. “It was exhilarating, wasn’t it?” He asked her calmly. _Yes,_ a voice in her head whispered to her. She shook her head, trying to force it out.

“I’m _not_ you!” Sarah snapped, her eyes sparking with anger. Pan raised his eyebrows at her and she flushed. _Way to hand him his point on a platter, s_ he admonished herself. She lowered her voice, looking at the ground. “I’m not.” She wasn’t sure which of them she was trying to convince.

Pan gestured around them. “This is Neverland, Sarah. There are no rules. You can be who you really are here.” Sarah was quiet. “Come on.” He told her, and this time she followed him. After her long trek yesterday, she paid careful attention to the way they took. She wanted to be ready in case Pan decided to leave her on her own again. At last they came to a small clearing. A ring of stones surrounded a small tripod of wood.

“Are we roasting marshmallows?” Sarah asked drily. “We could have done that back at camp.” Pan rolled his eyes.

“We’re here to see just how interesting you are, Sarah.” He told her. His face took on a disinterested expression. “And I don’t want you blowing up the camp if I prove to be right-which I usually am.” Sarah stared back at him as though her were insane. What was he on about now? He sighed. “Magic, Sarah.” He waved his hand, and the logs in the firepit crackled to life. Sarah yelped, jumping back from the sudden flames. Pan snickered. “You mean to tell me,” He said through laughter, “That you’ve been searching for a magical world all your life, and you’re surprised by a little magical fire? Oh that is rich.” Sarah glared at him, stepping back towards the fire to show she wasn’t afraid. Just surprised.

“I think I’d know if I had magic by now.” She told him bitingly.

“Not in the Land Without Magic,” He said matter-of-factly. “Besides, you need someone to teach you.” She eyed him cautiously. “Let me explain.” He began to stroll around the clearing, gesturing as he spoke. “You see, magic works off your emotions-strong emotions. If you want to harness it, you need to open yourself up to them.” With a wave of his hand, the fire went out. “Light the fire.” He told her. She stared at him in silent confusion. Was there a hand sign she had to make, or…what? “Focus on it. Really want it, believe you’ll light it.”

Sarah squinted at the logs, trying to will them into ignition. Nothing happened. “This is ridiculous.” She told him flatly. “See? I can’t use magic.”

Pan rolled his eyes. “I said _strong_ emotion Sarah.” The dark shadows in his eyes danced as he grew excited. “Tap into that anger, that rage.” Sarah shook her head.

“No.” She said faintly. “I-I can’t.”

“Well you certainly could yesterday.” His voice was dry, and Sarah winced. Yesterday wasn’t who she was, she insisted to herself. It wasn’t. His eyes bored into her, and she felt as though however she tried, she couldn’t avoid locking into his gaze. “Let it out.” He told her, as she felt once more that a demon’s hellfire caused the captivating glimmer in his eyes. “Tap into that _desire_ ,” His voice lowered around the word, “To hurt.”

“I don’t _want_ to hurt people!” She insisted, tearing her eyes away. _Yes, you do._ A voice in her head taunted. She whirled around. “What. Are. You. Doing.” She demanded. Pan’s face was innocent, but that only angered her more. _You’re more alike than you want to admit, aren’t you?_ The voice needled. _Go ahead and give in to the anger. You know you want to._ She growled in frustration with the boy king. How _dare_ he?  “Why are you in my head?” She all but screeched. “Get out!”

Pan put his hands up lazily. “Sweetheart, I’m not in your head.” He looked at her appraisingly. “Now why would you think I was?” Sarah took deep breaths, trying to calm down. Pan was circling her now like a cat eyeing a particularly juicy mouse. “Starting to think a bit like me, maybe?” He was too close. He breathed in her ear, “Are you, Sar?” 

Sarah pushed him away roughly. She could feel the warmth creeping over her face and neck, and she wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment over her outburst, the thoughts that had led to them, or just the fact that he was so close to her, smelling as he did of cool damp earth and sun-warmed stones. Pan laughed again, loudly and cruelly. “Getting a rise out of you is so easy.” He offered when Sarah glared at him. She didn’t answer. “Aww.” He moved in close to her face again. “You mad, little bird?” She tried to fix him with the nine-yard stare she used on the bullies at school, but the boy king in all his arrogance only smirked.

She stepped away in a hurry, putting distance between them as Pan straightened, poorly hiding a laugh. “Why are we doing this, anyway?” She demanded, arms crossed. “Weren’t you going to try and “break me” or whatever?  Isn’t there a pit full of vipers or something you could toss me into instead of whatever this,” She gestured wildly at the firepit and the clearing. “Is?”

Pan’s eyebrows knit. “I could almost be insulted by that,” He told her lightly. “But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten our game.” Wonderful. She was so glad. He stood in front of her, and spoke slowly as though explaining an obvious concept to someone not bright enough to catch it. “You can’t break your toy the first day you get it, Lost Girl.” Sarah bristled. “Or you won’t be able to enjoy it very long.”

“I’m not a toy!” She snapped, fists clenched. She regretted ever thinking that the boy across from her was pretty or nice-smelling. The only thing he was, was infuriating.

“Really?” He blinked at her in surprise. “Then why are you so fun to play with?” Sarah felt a wave of anger wash over her - and looked down, smelling the acrid aroma of smoke. A small fire crackled in the center of the stones. Pan’s expression was smug. “I hate to say I told you so.” He quipped. “Oh wait,” he drew back in mock confusion. His eyes widened in wild glee. “No I don’t.” Sarah growled.

“This means nothing.” She declared. The boy king merely shrugged.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He waved the fire out. “But it looks to me like I win this round.” Sarah struggled with an answer to scrape back some of her injured pride. Him, win? The audacity of the statement tied her tongue into helpless knots. Pan snorted at her silence. “Well, when you find your voice again, I’ll be back at camp.” Shrugging, he strolled off through the jungle. Sarah glared after him.

 _I don’t know how or when._ She thought to herself. _But I am going to bring that boy down a peg. Or two. Or if I really have my way, three-hundred and sixty five._


	17. Lessons

When at last the thorn beneath her skin was out of sight, Sarah plopped down beside the fire with a sigh. “That didn’t mean anything.” She told the smouldering wood. The tiny wisps of smoke which puffed off of it swirled in the air, taunting her. She thought she had gotten so much better at holding in her temper, but…she sighed again. Maybe she just hadn’t been around anything to test her temper out on. _Pan would make anyone lose it._ She assured herself. _He’s infuriating._ Pan, with his taunts and his threats and his penchant for getting _much too close_ for Sarah’s liking, thank you very much; Yes, surely Pan would test even the most even of tempers.

She told herself this as she stared at the smoke, in hopes of quieting that creeping voice in the back of her head that was ecstatic over this new development. The voice that said anger felt _good_ , and if she could make fire with it? Even better. She could be unstoppable, powerful, beautiful and terrible as the dawn, all of it. She picked up a stick and poked at the wood, disgruntled. She wanted to be excited that she could do magic. But not if it meant embracing a part of herself she’d rather keep tamped down. Besides, the standing stone in the jungle had told her not to let Pan win-and evidently he counted whatever it was that had just happened-her losing her temper, her having magic, maybe both- as a win.

On the other hand, the magic could give her an edge over Pan-and goodness knew she needed all the edge she could get. Sarah gritted her teeth, not enjoying this circling argument with herself. Then, an idea popped into her head. Pan has said magic worked off of strong emotions, but she hadn’t been feeling angry when Neverland responded to her. Maybe…maybe she didn’t need the anger after all. Feeling a bit silly, she scooted closer to the wood until she was kneeling before it. “I’m sorry I glared at you.” She told it. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to catch fire again?” She peered at it carefully, trying to will it with her heart and mind to catch fire again-but this time, minus the angry outburst. Nothing happened. Sarah put her hands out and closed her eyes. She tried to believe, truly believe, that the wood in front of her could catch fire. She smiled as her hands started to warm, she could almost here the crackle-wait.

She opened her eyes suddenly. That crackle was a twig breaking, not the crackle of flames. When she glanced down at the wood, it was still disappointingly unlit- though unless it was her imagination, it did feel warmer. _I’ll take it!_ She thought-it was a start, at any rate. Turning her attention back to the sound that had disturbed her, she sat still and silent as she could. She didn’t think it was a Lost Boy- they were too good at moving quietly. Although she waited, no other sounds came-until her stomach loudly informed her that she’d sat in the woods long enough.

She stood stiffly. How long had she been sitting there for? At any rate, it was long past time for her to get breakfast-or lunch, whichever time of day it was. The hazy twilight of the island made telling the passage of time difficult- if it truly passed at all, since none of its inhabitants aged. It took her perhaps a little longer than she’d prefer, but before too long she found herself at the edge of the camp. She was walking toward a group of Lost Boys with the idea of scaring up some food when Felix stopped in her path. “You made it back after all.” He drawled. “Pan was just sending me to go find you.” Sarah’s eyes went narrower. Whatever the truth might have been in the insinuation that she couldn’t navigate the jungle for herself, she resented it.

“I found my way just fine, thank you.” She said icily. Felix stared balefully back at her-she had been gone an awfully long time for that to be true. Sarah tilted her head up. “If you must know, I found the company in the jungle to be far superior than that available in camp.” She tried to wither the blonde giant with a look of scorn and derision. Disappointingly, his only response was a snort.

“That’s too bad, little bird.” A slow smile crept onto his face. Sarah’s eyes remained narrowed, but her eyebrows rose. Felix smiling was distinctly a Not Good Thing. “Because Pan said you and I are going to be spending the afternoon together.”

“I don’t think so.” She told him shortly. Like hell she was spending her afternoon with Felix- especially after spending the morning with Pan. There was only so much a girl could be expected to put up with in one day, surely? She recalled that yesterday she had been carried bound through the woods after being chased like an animal- well, perhaps not so sure after all. Still, she tried to walk past Felix to a circle of boys she could see were all eating-exactly what she wanted to be doing.

Felix swung his club down casually to block her path. “Pan’s orders.” He said flatly. She growled in response. If he was trying to break her, making her spend time with Felix was definitely the way to do it.

“Fine.” She grumped at last. “But I’m eating something first.” She had never actually passed out from not eating, nor had she known anyone who had done so, but she had read about it happening-and fainting in front of her number two enemy would be nothing short of mortifying. With a slight lift of his eyebrows, Felix passed her a hunk of bread. Sarah tore into it with her teeth, taking her frustration out on the pleasantly chewy crust. Swallowing, she eyed Felix cautiously. “And just what exactly are we going to spend the afternoon doing?” She asked him. She couldn’t think of an answer she would like, but she wanted to know what she was getting herself into. And hey, maybe there was still time to make a run for it.

Felix hefted his club onto his shoulder. “You’ll see.” He told her, tracking into the jungle. She followed sourly after him.

“Are you allergic to straight answers?” She grumbled. She hardly expected Pan’s laconic right hand to answer-it almost seemed he never opened his mouth except to taunt her. She glared fiercely into his back, a small part of her wondering if she could set it on fire if she tried hard enough. _None of that_ , she admonished herself. She contented herself with a good long sulk until Felix stopped abruptly. She looked around, but could see nothing of note in the area. No clearings, no stone, nothing to differentiate them from the rest of the dark and winding jungle. She looked at him curiously as he turned to face her.

“Do you know where we are?” He asked slowly. Sarah’s face twisted. Why was he asking her?

“In…the jungle?” She replied uncertainly. Felix blinked at her.

“Going to have to do better than that,” He drawled, “If you want to make it back to camp before dark.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed.

“Did you drag me all the way out here for an orienteering quiz?” She demanded. Felix grinned.

“Got to learn the jungle sometime, little bird.” He paused. “Unless you _want_ one of us to come looking for you every time you leave camp.” Sarah bristled.

“I’ll have you know I’ve found my way back to camp twice now-twice! On my own.” Strictly speaking, yesterday hadn’t been entirely on her own- but Felix didn’t need to know that. He shrugged.

“Wander blind for long enough and you’ll get lucky sometimes,” He mused. She felt her fists clench. “How far are we from camp?” He asked. The mocking tone was gone from his voice now, replaced with a level disinterest. Sarah scrunched her forehead, thinking. She had no idea.

“Not very?” She tried. They hadn’t been walking all that long.

“How many steps?” She stared at him in disbelief.

“You expect me to believe you all navigate by counting your steps?” She asked pointedly. There was no way- especially not when they were howling or jeering. Privately, she suspected some of them couldn’t even count all that high.

“At first.” She was surprised by his answer, but more surprised by his demeanour. If it hadn’t been Felix she were standing with, his attitude might almost have been called helpful. “Eventually you get a feel for it, but until then count your steps when you’re in the jungle.” Sarah didn’t trust this new, mentoring Felix.

“Why couldn’t you have told me that before we walked all the way out here?” She questioned. Her guide shrugged. She waited, but no further answer came. “Felix?” She prompted. He started walking again, and Sarah growled.

“Better be counting under that growling.” He called back. Feeling ridiculous, she began counting in her head as she walked. It was more difficult than it seemed, and when next he asked her how far they’d gone, Sarah struggled for a correct figure.

“Two hundred thirty steps?” She guessed. “I think? I may have lost track…” She trailed off, avoiding his gaze.

“Looks like you and I will be out here a long time, little bird.” He drew out the word “long” in a way that made her hackles rise. He started walking again. They carried on like this for a few hours until at last Sarah was able to keep track of her steps well enough to guess how far they’d gone. There had been some disagreements over the exact counts, since her strides were about three fourths of Felix’s, but eventually he pronounced her good enough. Sarah, who’d had quite enough of both walking in circles and her walking companion, was glad to hear it as they turned their trail back to camp.

“I can’t believe he told you to walk me around in circles in the jungle for hours.” She was grumbling to herself, but to her surprise Felix responded.

“His suggestion was drop you somewhere and let you figure it out yourself.” He commented lightly. Sarah’s face scrunched. That certainly sounded more like the demon boy-but it didn’t explain the last few hours.  
“Then why didn’t you?” She asked slowly. “I didn’t think you disobeyed orders from Pan.” Her last statement bordered on accusatory. She wouldn’t exactly call Felix a lapdog if anyone asked, but she wouldn’t deny that she thought so, either.

“Wasn’t an order.” Felix looked at her askance. “Just a suggestion.” Sarah felt something inside her twist unpleasantly. All who have harboured a secret enemy in their hearts know the unique pain of feeling indebted to such a person, far worse than any injury the object of their grudge might otherwise do them. “He’d have sent me out looking for you when you failed,” He added, “Figured teaching you’d save me a whole lot of time down the road.” _There_ it was. The mocking tone was back.

“Thanks.” Sarah said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t mention it.” The sarcasm dripping from Felix’s voice told her he meant every word. The two walked in silence for a ways until Sarah noticed that something felt off.

“We’re going the wrong way.” She said hesitantly. She was no expert on navigating the island, but she was sure they’d passed the same tree several times now. Felix stopped.

“Wondered when you’d notice.” He remarked, before changing directions. Sarah looked after him in disbelief. She’d thought they were done with the navigation lessons for the day. With some quiet remarks on where Felix might go if not back to camp, she followed after him. Several misdirections later, the two finally arrived back to camp. Her sore feet were thinking longingly of a luxurious sit-down in her tent, but unfortunately the universe-or maybe just Pan-had other plans.

“Lost Girl!” He called as they entered the clearing. He gestured with his hand for her to join him. Sarah spared a long, pleading look in the direction of her tent before walking over to join him.

“What do you want now?” She whined. He smiled at her frustration.

“I trust Felix gave you an enlightening tour of the jungle?” He queried. Sarah sighed loudly and aggressively in response. Pan knit his eyebrows. “Well I can see you didn’t think much of his lesson.” Sarah stared back at him blankly, still waiting for an answer to her question. Her patience seemed to be an ever-shrinking resource since coming to the island, and where Pan was concerned it was thinnest of all. “I guess I’ll have to take over for him.” Her eyes widened.

“No.” Her voice was hard and insistent. “No, definitely not. I’ll take Felix. Felix is great.” He might have been her number two enemy, but that meant he was still a better alternative than the hellspawn standing next to her. At least she had an idea what Felix would do from one moment to the next. Pan raised a brow, amused.

“I’m sure he’ll be flattered you think so. But I wasn’t offering you a choice.” Sarah raised her eyes beseechingly to the heavens. “What are you looking at?” Pan asked, turning his gaze to match hers. “No matter. Enjoy your night while you can, Lost Girl.” His eyes flickered maliciously. “Tomorrow I start training you for real.” Before she could respond, the boy king walked off into the night. Sarah groaned internally. _I am so, so screwed._


	18. Dancing

After scrounging for food amongst the Lost Boys, Sarah took herself to an early bed. Between the emotional trials of the morning, the physical trials of the afternoon, and the dread of whatever Pan had planned for her in the morning, she felt she needed all the sleep she could get. In consequence, she awoke early. Pulling on her boots, she crept cautiously out of her tent. The camp was silent this early, with only the sounds of the jungle-and the odd snore. A delicate mist curled out of the jungle, pooling in the low places of the camp and winding around the clinging warmth of last night’s embers. Sarah sucked in a breath, filling her lungs with the cool earthy scent of the morning. It was _beautiful_.

She had always loved the mist and fog because it felt magical. It spoke of secrets and mystery and here, on a real magical island, the feeling was multiplied over until she soon found herself entranced within the moment. She closed her eyes and spun, hands splayed out to feel the mist breezing through her fingers. Almost before she knew it, her heavy boots were lain aside and she was dancing barefoot across the empty camp, leaping and twirling as her feet skittered through the clinging tendrils of silver. Forgetting where she was, she laughed with joy.

Pan didn’t know what he was expecting to see when he woke up that morning, but this was not it. Standing just outside his own tent, he watched as the island’s newest inhabitant threw herself blindly across the clearing, dipping her hands low then casting them to the sky, flinging them out to her sides like wings as she spun. It was not quite graceful, but as he watched he noticed the fog creep higher around her, twining itself about her limbs until it almost seemed the two were dancing together. His eyebrows knit. He’d never seen the fog do that before-although he’d rarely seen a Lost Boy up this early, so perhaps that was the reason.

He watched as Sarah tried to turn as she leaped- and tripped over her own feet, falling to the jungle floor in a heap. When she opened her eyes, they were sparkling with the laughter that soon followed from her throat. With an odd feeling in his chest, he realised he’d yet to see her like this on the island. He’d seen her celebrating with the Lost Boys the first night of course, but this was something different. Then, she had been lost in the wild frenzy of the night, a person outside of herself. She was lost in a moment now as well-but if anything, she seemed more perfectly herself than she had yet shown him. He almost felt as though he should look away, as though he were intruding on something very private. Almost.

Shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts-this was his island, after all, and what should he care for Sarah’s privacy _or_ how herself she was at any given moment-he cleared his throat loudly. Sarah scrambled up, the change in her demeanour almost instantaneous. “Enjoying your morning?” He queried, brow raised.

Sarah felt herself flushing all over as she hurriedly pulled her boots back on. “I was until you showed up.” She told him, flustered. How long had he been standing there? For that matter, how long had she been spinning around the camp like a fool? _It was so nice while it lasted_ , a part of her thought longingly.

“It certainly looked that way.” He said drily. Sarah became suddenly interested in the ground just below her shoulder, feeling below the task of looking anywhere near the boy who’d discovered her in such a position.

“Right.” She said, teeth gritted. “Well. I’ll be going back to my tent now, until the time comes for whatever monstrous scheme you’ve been incubating for me this morning to hatch.” Studiously avoiding looking anywhere near him, She marched hastily in the direction of her tent. She was blocked by the sudden appearance of a solid body dressed in green.

“Not so fast, Lost Girl.” Sighing, Sarah slowly looked up. Such words didn’t bode well for her. When she saw the devilish grin on Pan’s face, she quickly looked away again. If she didn’t see it, maybe, it didn’t exist. _Keep telling yourself that_. “I think I’ve decided what we’ll train you in first.” She closed her eyes, not wanting to hear whatever decision he’d made. “Dancing.” Her eyes opened as her head drew back.

“I-what?” She asked, thoroughly confused. There was no conceivable situation on the island in which she would need to be good at dancing. Besides, dancing was a private thing-one she felt quite good enough at already. Pan’s grin exacerbated.

“As…cute.” He said slowly, his voice dripping with condescension, “As that was, you clearly need work. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t bowl over half the camp if your ending was any indication.” He shrugged. “Maybe you would have if I hadn’t interrupted you, who knows.”

Sarah’s brows furrowed and her mouth dropped open. Of all the nerve! “My dancing is perfectly fine!” She insisted, irate. “ _Not_ that it’s any of your business. Dancing is a private thing, and one I’ll thank you to keep your excessively inordinate overreach very well out of!” Thus incensed, she didn’t realise until they flashed at her that she was holding contact with his eyes. She let a heavy puff of air out through her nostril, trying to fight down the urge that told her to tear her eyes away from the devil’s in front of her.

The devil in question merely raised his eyebrows at her, amused. “I wouldn’t complain if I were you.” He suggested. “I _was_ just going to throw knives at you all morning to improve your reflexes.” Sarah’s eyes widened, and at this she did look away. He was actually maniacal, totally unstable- how was she supposed to beat someone like this? “But I think this will be more fun.” Sarah yelped as he caught her hand in his, wrapping an arm gracefully around her waist. She strained against him, but as relaxed as he appeared his grip was surprisingly strong.

“Let go of me.” She insisted, still straining. “I’ll take the knives.” She looked pointedly over his shoulder, refusing to look at the demon-boy’s face. Her heart was thumping unpleasantly, and she worried that as close as they were Pan might hear it-or worse, feel it. _With fear,_ She told herself grimly. _It’s thumping with_ fear _._

“Oh come on, Sarah,” He cajoled her mockingly, “You’ll dance with fog but not with me?” His face twisted in an imitation of dismay. “You might very well hurt my feelings.”

“You don’t have feelings.” Sarah told him acerbically. Switching to a new tactic, she went entirely limp, trying to catch him off guard and break his grip by becoming deadweight. The move backfired as he pulled her against his chest to catch the sudden weight. He laughed cruelly, the sound loud and harsh so close to her ear.

“That I don’t.” He told her, his eyes glimmering darkly. “But you do. Why _is_ your heart pounding so quickly Sarah?” She hurriedly pulled herself away from his chest, back to the close frame that was as far as his grip allowed her to go.

“This is an awful lot of talking for a dance lesson.” Her voice came out a little too loud in her panic, and she cringed. Pan smirked. He so _relished_ her discomfort. It was different from the respectful, awe-filled fear the Lost Boys gave him, and variety was after all the spice of life. Still, he was a boy of his word. He stepped forward-and Sarah, wanting to keep the space between them, stepped back. When he stepped back, however, she stayed put-unless he pulled her.

“You want to follow my steps, Sarah.” He rolled his eyes. “Not avoid them.”

“I most certainly do wish to avoid them.” She replied through gritted teeth. “They’re attached to you.” Pan growled. Considering he’d told her the alternative was avoiding projectile blades, why was she being so obstinate? He sighed heavily. Whatever her feelings on it, he’d started this thing and he was going to finish it.

“Close your eyes.” He told her. She eyed him suspiciously.

“Why?” She demanded. “What are you planning?” Nothing good, she was sure of it. Her body was stiff with tension in his arms as she tried to anticipate whatever twisted scheme was unfolding in the dark labyrinth of his mind.

Pan snorted. “It will help you relax.” He said flatly. It was Sarah’s turn to snort. Relax? In this situation? Not bloody likely. Pan rolled his eyes again. “Pretend I’m not here.” He said. “Just follow my movement.”  Sarah glared up at him, daggers practically overflowing from her gaze. “Or,” He quipped, “We can keep going like this until the Lost Boys wake up. I for one always enjoy an audience.” Reluctantly, Sarah shut her eyes. She waited tensely for something-she didn’t know what, but something- terrible to happen.

Instead, she found herself moving with Pan’s steps. She could hardly believe it, but before long she had in fact almost forgotten he was there, and the two were gliding gracefully around the clearing. Their steps grew lighter and faster until Sarah almost felt that they were flying. In the bliss of the dance, she laughed with-wait. Her laughter cut off abruptly as she opened her eyes, gazing down at feet which indeed were not touching the ground. It didn’t just feel like they were flying, they actually were-or hovering, at any rate. She tensed instantly when the sight of her partner reminded her that she was not in a situation to be laughing. “Put me down.” She insisted. Pan’s expression was amused as the two floated just above the ground.

“Are you sure?” He asked with mock sincerity. “And here we were having such a _lovely_ time.” Sarah’s heart began to pound again as she returned to her senses. Her feet scrabbled at the open air, trying to drive herself down to the ground. With a grin, Pan released her at last. She fell to the ground with a painful thud. She glared up at him accusingly, considering whether or not it might be worth it after all to give in to her dark side, if it meant she could hurl a fireball at his infuriatingly smug face.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed a tent flap in motion. Felix soon emerged, and she could see the edge of another Lost Boy’s sleeping frame behind him. _At least I get my own tent_. She mused. _Thank goodness for the little things._ She intensified her glare at Pan above her. _Since the big things are such a trial._ Felix glanced their way as he passed through the camp to the jungle, but with the exception of a raised eyebrow, he said not a word. With Sarah glaring angrily from the ground and Pan hovering smugly above, any number of things could be happening-thankfully, very few of those possibilities were His Problem. He had things to do. As he disappeared into the jungle, he caught the edge of Pan’s words.

“Don’t look so glum, Lost Girl. We’re just getting started.”


	19. Dagger

“Don’t look so glum, Lost Girl.” Pan, back on the ground now, offered her a hand. “We’re just getting started.” She regarded the proffered hand as though it were a deadly serpent and pushed herself off the ground to get up herself. Pan put his hands up in a gesture of conciliation, though the smirk remained plastered to his face. She scowled and stepped backwards to put more space between them, crossing her arms as she did so.

“What’s next.” She asked flatly. When Pan raised an eyebrow at her she sighed, rolling her eyes to the back of her head. “You said we’re just getting started, so what’s next? A jazz routine? Walking over coals?” Pan snorted. Her petulance was so much less amusing than her fear.

“Well since you disliked your first lesson so much,” He began, gesturing with his hand. “I think we’ll go back to our original plan for the day.” Sarah’s face dropped.

“You’re joking.” Surely he wasn’t serious about throwing knives at her? She chanced a glance at his face, but soon regretted it. His eyes were dancing with mischief, but she couldn’t tell if the mischief was of the “yanking her chain” variety or the “serious bodily harm” variety. He looked at her in mock confusion.

“That’s odd. Just a moment ago, you said you’d prefer the knives.” He shook his head slowly. “If you’re going to be a Lost Girl, Sarah, I can’t have you going back on your word. It’s bad form!” He reached for something on his belt. Sarah bolted, the sound of his laughter reaching her from behind the tree she’d sought for shelter. “Your running reflex is fast enough.” He quipped. “Now, come out from behind that tree and we’ll see how the rest of your reflexes fare.” There was a long silence as neither of them moved. Sarah stilled her breathing as much as she could, wanting to be sure she could hear him if he moved. She knew her reflexes were terrible, and didn’t think much of her chances for surviving air-borne knives.

Out of her sight, Pan was growing bored.  He flipped a dagger lazily in his hand as he waited to see if Sarah would actually step willingly into his range. “I know you don’t want to do this the hard way, little bird.” He cajoled. He thought he heard a rustle-but she remained behind the tree. He sighed loudly and took a decisive step towards the tree. He could move silently if he wanted to, but he wanted to frighten her loose. Part of him was hoping if he put enough fear in her, he’d catch another glimpse of whatever had challenged him on the cliffs. Now _that_ had been exciting.

Hearing his footstep, Sarah’s breath hitched in her throat. If she bolted now he’d have a clear shot at her, but the longer she waited, the closer he’d be-and the less time she’d have to react. On the other hand, if she waited till he was close she could circle the tree. Then he wouldn’t have room to throw anything. _Or he might just stab you._ He wouldn’t do that, would he? _Why not? He’ll throw knives at you but not stab you? Come on, Sarah._ She heard another step.

“I’m getting impatient Sarah.” The boy king called out. She had to think fast. “I’ll give you until the count of three. One.” Sarah tensed- she’d sprint for the treeline, she’d decided. “Two.” Taking a deep breath, she pushed her self off from the tree, “Three.” Pan appeared several feet in front of her with a maniacal grin, arm raised. He hurled the dagger towards her with a laugh. Sarah shrieked and dropped to the ground as the dagger landed with a thud in the tree an inch from where her shoulder had been. It wouldn’t have hit her, but it would have been close.

The sounds of rustling canvas and shouts of confusion filled the camp as the Lost Boys came tumbling out of their tents. They gripped their weapons staunchly, some of them half-dressed or barefoot, as they looked for the source of the sound that had awoken them. Pan’s laughter soon clued them in, and they crept cautiously over to see what their leader was crowing over.

Sarah heard none of it over the blood rushing in her ears and her heart pounding out of her skull. She was crouched by the tree, hands gripping her head with her wrists by her ears. She panted shallowly through her nose, a little in shock that she remained unpunctured. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. She whipped her head to the side, expecting some new angle of attack-and caught the eyes of the assembled Lost Boys. The boys looked on with a mix of attitudes. Some were uninterested, wandering away already back to their beds. Some looked joyous- Cody, notably, looked downright triumphant. Some-she caught Arthur’s eye for a moment. Something flashed in it before he looked away, embarrassed. _Pity._ She thought.

That woke her up.   _I won’t be pitied._ Standing slowly, her mouth set into a hard, grim line. Pan watched with amusement as she turned and yanked the dagger from the tree. It took her a few tries, and some of the boys snickered. _I’ll give them something to laugh at._ She could feel herself growing cold all over, and the quiet voice in the back of her head warned her to calm down. She didn’t listen. The blade in her hand, she turned. The boys grew quiet, sensing something had changed. Pan’s breath quickened and the shadows in his eyes danced and spun. He could feel something familiar radiating from Sarah, and he wanted to see more of it.

For once, Sarah was happy to oblige him. With a primal snarl, she launched herself at him, dagger raised in her fist. He caught her wrist with the dagger’s tip half an inch from his throat. With a growl Sarah brought her fist up to do the work the dagger had failed to, but he caught that too, easily. She glared into his eyes, her face twisted with rage. Pan’s eyes went wide with glee as he gazed on his handiwork. “Beautiful.” He breathed. Sarah snarled. She struggled against him mightily, trying to angle the dagger or her fist or anything to injure the boy who’d just tried to kill her, who’d made her look weak and foolish in front of so many other people. _He should die_. The voice in her mind told her. _He deserves it. It would be_ justice _to kill him._ The quieter voice of reason went unheard.

Though her veins felt all-over ice, Sarah felt a heat growing in her hands. Trapped as her fist was in his grip, Pan felt it too. He blinked as they continued to warm until soon they were almost too hot to bear holding. Gritting his teeth, he locked eyes with swirling shadows staring back at him from Sarah’s face. They didn’t flinch. “This isn’t a fight you can win, little girl.” He told her darkly. Eyes flashing, she smirked.

“Little girl’s not here right now.” Her voice came out cool and steely. _Stop it, Sarah._ “Just me.” Sarah grinned as her hands sparked to flame. Pan flinched, but held his grip. She wasn’t the only one with magic. A sharp laugh like the crashing of glass broke from Sarah’s throat. “I may not win this fight, Peter. But neither will you.”

“Sarah!” A familiar voice called from the Lost Boys, who had by and large been edging away from the two. They knew to avoid Pan when the shadows sprung up in his eyes. This was different. This was dangerous. Though exchanging looks, they were silent, watching the pair in nervous anticipation of what might occur. Yet at the edges of the fray, Arthur became increasingly agitated. For all she was a girl, he liked Sarah. She was odd in her way, but good. The mad creature facing off against Pan was not Sarah, not the Sarah he had come to know over the past few days-but whoever she was, she was going to get his Sarah killed. He didn’t want to see that. Barely aware of what he was doing, he’d found himself creeping closer to the pair until at last he’d called out. “Sarah!”

Her ears twitched. Breathing slow and heavy, she turned her face towards the call of her name. Arthur was looking back at her with abject distress.  “Don’t.” He said softly. His words bounced off steel as her eyes narrowed, and his stomach churned. He glanced at Pan, Pan who was smiling with eyes wide as he played his new game with his new toy, revelling in the rage he’d brought roaring to the surface. “He’ll kill you.” Pan’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the Lost Boy, _his_ Lost Boy, who had dared interfere in his game. Luckily for Arthur, Sarah stole his attention back with another shatterglass laugh.

“I don’t care.” She said lightly. She turned her attention back to Pan with a snarl. “As long as _he bleeds_.” She tore her dagger hand free with a burst of strength. Growling, she raised it back-and fell limp, dropping the dagger as a sleeping spell overcame her. Pan stood above her, still gripping the fist of her now limp arm. His breathing was heavy- this was _exhilarating_. Yet for all he enjoyed it, the magnitude of Sarah’s transformation puzzled him. Something about the island’s newest addition did not add up, and he intended to find out what. Carefully, he lifted her sleeping form into his arms. The Lost Boys cleared a path as he walked towards them.

He stopped as he passed Arthur. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten Arthur.” He told him cooly. “If I were you, I’d remember where your loyalties lie.” He walked in the direction of his tent, leaving a shell-shocked Arthur. Slowly, murmuring quietly amongst themselves, the Lost Boys began to disperse.

Arthur felt a hand on his arm. “Come on.” Xavier said softly. His face was grim, eyes searching for something in Arthur’s that they didn’t seem to be finding. “Let’s go for a walk.” If Felix wondered about the dark cloud hanging over the two Lost Boys as he returned to camp, he didn’t say it aloud. Nor did he question the stilted air of the camp, the boys moving silently, the low and nervous mutterings. When he saw his leader duck into his tent with a dark look on his face, an unconscious Sarah in his grasp, _then_ he started to wonder. He caught the eye of one of the older boys with a questioning look. Nodding, they approached him grimly. His brows dipped down.  What on the island had he missed?


	20. Dream

Pan ducked into his tent with Sarah couched snugly in his grip. He laid her on his own pallet, somewhat larger and thicker than the one she’d been sleeping on, and sat down to look at her. The magic-induced sleep gave her a peaceful expression, but he wondered who he’d see when the spell wore off. He almost regretted having left her at the cliffs now, instead of staying to see what happened to the shadows in her eyes. When she’d returned from the cliffs she’d seemed joyous, buoyant even, as though she’d discovered something wonderful. He’d banished that mood quickly of course, but he wondered what had caused it in the first place. And then there was the matter of the mermaid. And the fog. And her presence on the island to begin with. He also couldn’t shake the odd unsettling feeling she drew up in him every now and again, and that was the strangest mystery of all. This was _his_ island, and nothing here unsettled him. Nothing except Sarah.

While Pan frowned and fretted over a puzzle he couldn’t solve, Sarah was floating through a world of dreams. Her dream self was somewhere cool and hazy, with green and blue mists that curled around her as they wafted through the air. From somewhere, she could hear a faint but beautiful melody. The mists around her began to shimmer and slowly began to condense until they took the form of something very like a human. “Hello Sarah.” The air around her hummed, and Sarah smiled-she knew this voice! It was warm and cool all at once, the fresh breeze off a burbling stream and the kiss of the sun on bark worn smooth with age.

 _Hello Neverland._ She thought warmly. The figure smiled.

 “I’ve been waiting for you.” Once more, Sarah felt as though she were on the edge of a revelation, something she couldn’t quite reach. It felt closer here, so close she could almost see it rounding the corner just down the street. She scrunched her brows.

 _I think I’ve been waiting for you, too._ The figure waved a hand gently, and a scene of breath-taking beauty materialised around them. They were floating in the air above lush treetops. Not the dark and foreboding jungle of Neverland, this canopy sang with life and joy and freedom. Sarah could see silver-spun streams winding their way across this island from the majestic peak at the centre, and light waves lapped on the shore like the embrace of an old friend. _Is this?_ The figure nodded.

“It could be.” The image warped and shifted, and Sarah felt the cold touch of fear grip at her heart. The island looked more like Neverland as she knew it now, except-she squinted. It was even darker, the rugged peaks shaped to cruel and jagged spires, the jungle dark and echoing with fearful sounds, the waves rough and clawing at the twisted thinning shores. Sarah looked to the figure. Their face was now grim. “It could be too.” The figure answered her question before she asked it. The images around them shifted again, swirling in a loop of one hundred different Neverlands. Sarah was caught in a whirl as each image flashed by, some strange and fantastical, others sadly mundane, some light, some dark, and some where no island existed at all. Something tugged at her heart, a familiar old sadness and longing. She looked pleadingly at the misted figure, who smiled sadly.

“I am such stuff as dreams are made on.” They intoned.  “And of the stuff of dreams am I made.” They held her gaze for a long moment, then reached out a misty hand towards her. Sarah leaned forward to take it, reaching her fingers out with the feeling that if she only took their hand, she would remember what it was that she’d set back in the closet of her mind, what it was that filled her with such a longing even here, in this magical place.

Blinking, Sarah opened her eyes to a canvas roof and the feeling of someone close by. There was a strange familiar feeling in her chest, that there was something very important she had to do but couldn’t remember what or why. “Had a nice nap?” She sat up with a jolt, stumbling backwards on high alert. Pan raised an eyebrow at her as the vestiges of whatever it was she had dreamed flaked away to her unpleasant reality. She was still somewhat disoriented-how had she gotten to her tent, and what was the demon boy doing in it? Her eyes grazed the space. No, this wasn’t her tent. It was slightly bigger, and several odd knick-knacks hung from the support poles and lay scattered over the ground. Turning her head in confusion, she looked at Pan side-eyed.

“Whose tent is this?” She asked slowly. “And why am I in it?”

Pan snorted. “You don’t remember?” He asked lightly. He furrowed his brows, turning his head in mock indignation. “And here I enjoyed our little moment so much.” The more interesting Sarah had disappeared back to wherever it was she stayed when she wasn’t trying to destroy him, and a part of him was disappointed. Still, tormenting Sarah was fun even when her darker self didn’t come out to play, so it wasn’t all bad. And of course, her ordinary self might be easier to get answers out of.

Sarah scrunched her face, trying to figure out what moment he could possibly be referring to. She realised slowly that she was sitting on a pallet, the only one in the tent. The other Lost Boys shared tents, which meant…her face twisted slowly in apprehension. This was Pan’s tent. “Why am I in your tent?” She asked again, her words still slow and tentative. Pan smirked at her as something flashed behind his eyes. He couldn’t possibly mean…she looked down at herself slowly. She was thankful to see she was fully clothed, but confused to see her hands had an odd pinkish tinge to them. She lifted them closer, turning them over as she tried to think why they would be that colour.

Her memory slammed back to her all at once. The dagger, Arthur, the sheer rage that had flowed through her like a raw and primal energy. Her heart began to pound. _This is bad._ She thought to herself. _This is very bad._ She felt her ears pull back as her body tensed, and looked slowly back to Pan with a mounting feeling of dread. He was smiling. _Even. Worse._

“So tell me, Sarah.” He asked lightly, and pursed his lips into a line. “Have you always been given to murderous, self-destructive rages?” Rather than respond, Sarah looked away. She didn’t feel the need to discuss her emotional stability-or lack thereof-with someone who didn’t seem to have any of their own. A long moment passed. “I asked you a question.” His voice was hard now, not accustomed to being disobeyed or ignored. Sarah shrugged, and he scowled.

“It’s not your business.” She told him at last.

He snorted. “Well it is if it’s going to end with you holding a dagger to my throat.”

“A dagger you threw at me first!” Sarah shot back, indignant. Pan rolled his eyes.

“It wouldn’t have hit you.” He spoke as though she was being unreasonable. Sarah peered at him open-mouthed.

“How could I have known that!” She demanded. Pan cocked his head to the side.

“Some people have spatial reasoning.”  Sarah growled in frustration, slapping the pallet with her hands. Pan peered at her curiously. “You’re not going to go berserk again, are you?” He looked off to the side and back again. “If you are, I’d really rather you did it outside.” He wobbled one of the support poles. “Tent’s a bit fragile.” Sarah stared at him. _He’s totally unhinged._  She thought to herself.  “Like what you see?” He quipped drily. That did it. As Sarah scrambled to her feet to leave, Pan stood and stepped threateningly in front of the door. “I don’t remember saying you could leave, Lost Girl.”

She took a half step back, trying to assess the danger level. “Is there a _reason_ for me to still be in your tent?” She asked evenly. “I can’t think of any.”

“Really?” He quipped, “I can think of several.” Sarah scowled at him, crossing her arms. “You’re not leaving until you’ve answered my question.” Was he serious right now? Sarah’s irritation was mounting.

“Fine.” She grumbled tersely. “Yes, I’ve always had a temper. Can I go now?” A slight smile crept on to Pan’s face.

“I’d hardly call that,” He gestured to the outside, indicating the earlier scene, “A temper.” He raised an eyebrow. “Practically a different person from the whimpering mess the shadow first dropped on my island.”

Sarah bristled. “You would put anyone in a rage!” She insisted, “You’re infuriating!” Convinced he was in the mood to be annoying but not dangerous, she tried to push past him out the front of the tent. He raised his arm and caught her in a strong grip as she stepped by, leaning his head down to speak close to her ear.

“You’re not the only one with a temper, little bird.” He said softly. She shivered. “I’d remember that if I were you.” He released her with a shove, and she stumbled back out into camp. Taking a shaky breath she righted herself, and glanced back over her shoulder at the tent. Catching Pan’s eye through the flaps she turned quickly, making a beeline to hide out in her tent for a while. Out of sight out of mind-and she definitely wanted to be out of the boy king’s mind.  


	21. Greatest

Unfortunately for Sarah, fate had other plans. As she trundled towards her tent, Felix caught her eye. He opened his mouth to say something. “Don’t.” She cut him off curtly. No doubt whatever it was would be snarky or mocking, and she wasn’t feeling up to dealing with Pan’s chief lackey after dealing with the demon boy himself. “Not in the mood.” Felix shrugged.

“Guess I’ll give this to one of the boys then.” He drawled, lifting the steaming bowl Sarah now saw in his hand. She paused a moment, torn between her unwillingness to accept help from Felix and the realisation that she’d yet to eat anything today. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep for, but the awakened gnawing in her stomach hinted that it must have been a long time.

“Wait.” She said quietly. Wordlessly, he offered the bowl to her. She accepted it sheepishly. “Thanks. I’m-” She struggled to choke out the words. “Sorry I snapped at you.” She looked off to the side. Apologising to Felix was a fresh blow to her pride. Her number two enemy raised his brows, mildly amused by her discomfort.

“Lost Boys don’t apologise, little bird.” He told her.

“I bet they don’t get dragged into dancing lessons either.” She grumbled under her breath, spooning the warm stew into her mouth. Pan might call her a Lost Girl, but he certainly didn't treat her like one of his own. If Felix heard her remark, he chose to ignore it. She could ignore this slight however, as the food was nothing short of delicious. She attacked it with gusto.

“Of course,” His slow drawl stretched down to her. “Lost Boys also don’t attack their leader.” Sarah’s spoon stopped in front of her mouth. It was almost imperceptible, but something hard edged around Felix’s voice. Was he threatening her? She looked up at him slowly.

“You poisoned this, didn’t you?” She asked. She wasn’t sure herself how serious the question was. “Because I attacked Pan.” Felix stared at her balefully.

“I don’t need to poison you.” He said calmly. “Just warn you. If you go up against Pan, you will lose.” Sarah felt the tension of dread build in the back of her neck.

“What am I supposed to do?” She demanded, trying to cover her nerves with bravado. “Let him do whatever he wants and hope he’s not feeling homicidal that day?” Felix looked at her as though she were a small, stupid child.

“Pan’s not going to kill you.” He began, “Unless you give him a reason.” He locked his eyes with her own. “So don’t. Give him. A reason.” Sarah broke the eye contact quickly. It wasn’t as bad as looking into Pan’s eyes, but Felix’s steady gaze was still unsettling. As for his advice, she didn’t think much of it. Pan had threatened to or attempted (in her mind, at least,) to kill her countless times since she’d gotten to the island, and she couldn’t think of any valid reason. It seemed he got a sick enjoyment out of watching her suffer, and she didn’t think there was anything she could do about that.

“Why do you even care?” She asked him, suddenly suspicious. He shrugged.

“I’d probably be put on body duty, and I don’t feel like lugging your corpse all the way to the beach.” Seeing Sarah’s glare, his face cut into a grin.

“For second in command,” She said haughtily, “It seems like you end up with a lot of the worst grunt work.” Felix didn’t flinch.

“Pan knows I can be trusted.” He told her again. His face was calm. No sense giving a job to someone if it would have to be redone later.

“Trusted or taken advantage of?” She asked bitingly. Felix’s face went hard. He was loyal to Pan for his own reasons, but he didn’t appreciate Sarah thinking he was someone who could be taken advantage of, even by Pan.

“Don’t pretend to know me, little girl.” He told her, eyes narrowed. Sarah pressed on, unintimidated by this implied threat.

“I think your position as Pan’s lapdog is pretty clear for everyone to see.” She said smugly. Felix tilted his head.

“I could stick you in the cages again and no one would be the wiser.” He mused aloud. If Sarah thought she could antagonise him with no repercussions, he’d quickly show her otherwise. The other boys feared him for a reason.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Sarah declared, sticking her head in the air. If Pan didn’t order something, she didn’t believe Felix would trouble himself to do it. She was soon disabused of that notion as Felix scooped her up in one arm. “Hey!” She yelled, dropping her bowl and kicking at his knees with flailing legs, “Put me down!” Felix ignored her, walking towards the tree line with the barest hint of a smile on his face. “Felix!” What might have been a snort in response. A few of the Lost Boys stared as they passed-she _was_ making a lot of noise. But as Pan’s second, no one in camp would dare to question him even if they cared to know why he was dragging Sarah off to the jungle. And of course, most of them did not care.

When they were out of sight of camp, Sarah gave in. “Alright, I’m sorry I called you a lap dog. Are you really going to carry me all the way back to the cages?” Her captor slowed. “It would be a lot of effort,” She cajoled. He dumped her to the ground. She glared up at him as she stood slowly.

“Lost Boys don’t apologise.” He told her again. Sarah rolled her eyes.

“Well then what _do_ they do when one of you takes offense?” She demanded. “I assume you don’t lock the other Lost Boys in cages all the time.” Felix grinned, and she felt her stomach turn over uncomfortably. She didn’t like the look of it.

“We fight.” He told her, and hefted his club. Sarah dodged to the side, looking at him with mouth agape. This armed giant didn’t actually expect her to fight him, did he? The club swung her way again, and she had to throw herself to the ground to avoid its path. _Yes._ She thought grimly. _Yes he does._  She scrambled to get back on her feet, searching around her in the jungle for something she could use as a weapon.

“You’re armed and I’m not!” She panted. “That’s hardly a fair fight.” To her surprise, Felix tossed his club to the side. Her spirit buoyed. With him unarmed, maybe she had a chance!

She was too slow to avoid the tackle. Felix was surprisingly fast for his height, and he soon had her pinned to the ground. His face was a Cheshire grin above her as she tried to roll out from beneath him. “Alright, you win!” Sarah capitulated. As if there had ever been a chance of a different outcome. Mischief danced behind Felix’s eyes, and Sarah felt apprehension creep over her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked slowly, “I said you win, that means we’re done here, right?” She tried to roll away again. “Let me up.”

“And let you off so easily?” Felix mused, “You need to be taught a lesson, little bird.” Sarah’s stomach dropped. What did a _lesson_ from Felix entail? “Say ‘Felix is the greatest, and I am beneath him’.” Sarah stared back at him agog. Then, she burst into laughter.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She rolled her eyes. “Come on Felix, you’ve had your fun-let me up.” His smiling face gazed down at her. Shoot, he wasn’t kidding. “I’m not saying that.” She told him flatly. She would have kicked him if not for the heavy weight of his legs on hers, his knees weighing into her thighs.

“Suit yourself.” Felix said. “I can stay like this all day.” Sarah was growing agitated. She didn’t want to believe he meant it, but the last several times she’d thought that she’d been proven wrong.

“What about when Pan comes looking for you?” She demanded, trying a new angle of attack.  “You’d have to get up then.” Felix raised his eyebrows.

“I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take over for me.” He drawled. Sarah felt her heartbeat quicken. Over her dead body would she let that happen. _Though I bet he’d glower over my dead body just as readily._ He opened his mouth to speak again, but Sarah cut him off.

“FelixisthegreatestandIambeneathhim _there_ , are you happy?” With a victorious gleam in his eyes, he slid off of her, picking up his club as he stood. When he offered her a hand, she glowered. “I hate you.” She told him sourly. She scrambled up herself, dusting herself off and pulling at twigs in her hair. She may have escaped the fight without any physical wounds, but her pride was bleeding out on the ground.

“And here I thought we were becoming friends.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and she glared back at him through slitted eyes.

“Over my dead body.” She hissed at him. The tall boy smiled lazily.

“That can always be arranged.” He said casually, knocking his club lightly against his shoulder. He turned back on the path. “You coming back to camp, or am I going to have to drag you again?” Sarah skulked after him, sulking the whole way.


	22. Vines

Pan watched sharply as Sarah returned to camp trailing after his second in command. He hadn’t ordered Felix to take her into the jungle this time, so what had the two been doing? Whatever it was, Sarah clearly hadn’t enjoyed it-from the look on her face she was plotting to murder her companion in his sleep. To the casual observer, Felix looked bored; Pan could tell he was pleased with himself. He couldn’t put his finger on what about this situation irked him, but he strove to remedy it almost before he knew what he was doing. “Why the long face, Lost Girl?” Sarah yelped and jumped as he appeared behind her.

“Do you not know how to walk?” She demanded hotly, embarrassed to have been taken by surprise. The camp was not that large-surely it took more energy to teleport with magic than to walk across it? Pan raised his eyebrows.

“Not happy to see me?” He asked lightly, circling around to stand in front of her. “Now that’s too bad. And here I was coming to rescue you from your plight.” Felix covered a snort as Sarah crossed her arms, looking between the two of them.

“Not in need of rescuing.” She said bluntly. “Certainly not from you-that would be like using a firehose on a drowning victim.” Pan looked at her in confusion. What was a firehose, and what did it have to do with drowning? He snorted-nevermind that. If Sarah didn’t want to play nicely, he wouldn’t either.

“Very well then,” He told her smoothly, “In that case I’m here to take you off to a _much_ worse” His eyes widened. “Fate than whatever it was you and Felix were playing at.” Felix took this as his cue to leave, nodding to Pan before walking away from them. Sarah’s eyes trailed after him in despair before slowly turning back to look at Pan. He had the calculating look she so distrusted in his eyes again. Her stomach turned over.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked nervously, fidgeting uncomfortably under his gaze. “What are you planning?” Pan smirked, and she felt something like relief wash over her. A smirk was bad, but not as bad as a smile.

“I’m just trying to decide where to take you off to next.” He told her lightly. “I did say it would be worse than whatever Felix did to make you look so unhappy.” When next he appeared he was behind her again. “Just what were you two up to out there?”  He plucked a leaf from her hair with a questioning look-Sarah shied away from his touch.

“You want me to tell you what we were doing so you can do something worse?” She asked hesitantly. “Then as far as you’re concerned we picked flowers in a clearing and had a lovely time-I just looked unhappy because I don’t like Felix’s face.” The last part was true, at any rate.

Pan tsked. “Now, now Lost Girl, it’s no good lying. Lying is like cheating-and cheaters never win.” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“Fine.” She bit out. “He took offense to something I said and dragged me off in the woods to fight it out.” Pan quirked his brows. “I lost.” Pan snorted.

“Obviously.” He told her drily. “Felix is my best fighter-I’m just surprised he bothered with you.” He leaned in close to her face. “Just what did you say, little bird?” Sarah turned her face away.

“Not your business.” Her teeth ground together as she glared hard into the ground. Why did he always have to stand so close? She shuffled back a few steps. Pan rolled his eyes.

“Everything on the island is my business.” He told her flatly. “Particularly if my Lost Boys are fighting each other.” He waved his hand in the air. “Can’t have you knifing each other in your sleep.”

“Why’s that,” Sarah asked drily, crossing her arms, “Because you’d rather do it yourself?” Pan surprised her with a laugh, and it almost felt as though the threat pervading the air was lightening.

“Such an opinion you have of me.” He observed emphatically. Sarah stared at him in response. What other opinion could she possibly have of someone who threatened her constantly and encouraged his lackeys to do the same? “I’ve changed my mind.” He announced, his demeanour shifting from threatening to something strangely akin to charismatic. Sarah listened warily. “I’m going to take you somewhere _better_ than where Felix took you. We’re going to have _fun._ ”

Sarah shook her head as she stepped back. “I don’t like your fun.” She told him cautiously. “Your fun is always bad for me.” Pan’s eyes sparkled mischievously. Sarah screeched as in a flash, the two were airborne. “Put me down!” She yelled, panic rising as the two drove up through the canopy.

“Just enjoy the view!” Pan called over the rush of the wind. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.” Slowly, Sarah inched her eyes open and looked cautiously out over Neverland. Her breath caught in her throat. It _was_ beautiful. Except-her eyes scrunched. Pan had said it was like nothing she’d ever seen, but it felt so familiar. She could have sworn she’d seen it somewhere before, like an old memory or the traces of a dream. _I am such stuff as dreams are made on_. Familiar words in a familiar voice echoed in the back of her mind. She still couldn’t place it, and it was driving her crazy-crazy enough to forget, for a moment, whose arms she was flying in.

Pan could tell Sarah’s attention had shifted elsewhere, and he bristled. He was showing her something incredible, something he hadn’t shared with just anyone. How dare she ignore him? He loosened his grip slightly as a sinister smile played over his face. Driving up higher, towards the clouds, he let her go. Sarah came out of her thoughts with a scream, plummeting towards the trees. Pan swooped down, intending to catch her before she hit the canopy-he didn’t want to kill her just yet after all, just keep her on her toes- but the island had other plans. He stopped short, watching in shock as the forest itself sent up green tendrils to slow Sarah’s fall, wrapping around her like old friends till she lay safely nestled in a basket of fresh green vines.

Sarah lay there panting, fearing to move in case whatever force was acting on the vines decided she wasn’t worth holding after all. “Thank you.” She breathed quietly. Her basket warmed beneath her hands in response. Slowly, the boy who’d dropped her came in to view. She had seen him surprised, but this was the first time she’d seen him looked shocked. She eyed him fearfully, accusingly. “What was that.” She asked quietly. “Why did you drop me.” Pan didn’t speak for a long moment.

“I was going to catch you.” He said at last. She wondered at the uncertainty in his voice. “What is this?” Sarah blinked. He didn’t know? When he spoke again, his voice was harder. “What is this?” He demanded, gesturing at the friendly vines holding her up. The island was acting independently of him, and though he’d never admit it to anyone, even himself, that frightened him. It angered him. And for part of him-the part that relished challenges, puzzles, and daring adventures-it thrilled him.

Sarah shook her head slowly. “I don’t know.” She said carefully. The last time Pan had questioned her about the island’s behaviour had been terrifying, and she didn’t want to repeat it anytime soon-particularly not above the tree canopy where he could fly and she couldn’t. “The island…likes me?” Pan’s face darkened.

“The island does what I tell it to.” He said sharply. “And I’d never tell it to like _you_.” He sneered, and Sarah felt a tug of something-sadness, confusion? She wasn’t sure- at her heart. Why would it be so strange for the island to like her? _Why would it be so strange for Pan to like you, you mean?_ The needling voice in her head was unwelcome. As if she would care what this twisted, arrogant boy-child thought of her. The vines shivered under her, and Sarah tensed. Pan was glaring at them. He snarled, and all at once they fell away. She shouted as her skin made contact with soft leaves and rough branches.

She had barely scraped the tree line, however, when a lean pair of arms wrapped around her, holding her tight against a green-clad chest. Sarah shuddered. She always told herself it wasn't heights she was afraid of-it was falling. Normally it helped her not feel so afraid in high places where there were things like guard rails, walls, windows- things that would make falling impossible, and so less scary than simply being up high. But this made two close calls today, and she desperately hoped there wouldn’t be more. She shuddered again. “Can we please go back to camp?” She asked softly. Her eyes were wrenched shut in a head tucked in to avoid any chance of seeing the ground below.

Pan blinked, surprised at the defeat in her voice. He was growing accustomed to her biting back, sometimes savagely, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about a toy that might break if he played with it too roughly. Still, he needed answers about the way the island had responded to her-whether Sarah had the answers or not. “Not yet.” He told her quietly. He felt her sigh against him. It felt much older than he would have expected - Sarah didn’t have the extra years of living on Neverland - and he felt a strange feeling in his chest. He wouldn’t think about what that feeling might be. Silently, the two flew off over the island.


	23. Waterfall

When at last the two alighted on solid ground, Sarah opened her eyes slowly. She could hear the muted roar of tumbling water nearby. Unfurling her head from against Pan’s chest, she saw tall rocks covered over in vines and brambles. She found her feet beneath her shakily as Pan released her from his grasp. Thus freed, she looked around to get a better idea of where he’d taken her. The ground beneath them was smooth dusty earth, a small flat region at the top of a peak. She suspected the pond she’d bathed in earlier was somewhere below her, probably sourced by the rushing water she heard. “Where are we?” She asked quietly, her back to the boy king.

Pan had watched her carefully when they landed. There was a quiet, resigned uncertainty about her manner now that he didn’t like. It was not the wild fear he so enjoyed winding out of her, nor the steely determination he’d seen on the cliffs, nor even the whining sarcasm she resorted to when feeling aggravated but emboldened. No, this was no fun-he didn’t like this new manner at all. He’d have to tread carefully to get what he wanted. He crafted a smile onto his face. “This is my apology.” He told her smoothly. She didn’t turn around. Sighing, he placed a hand on her shoulder. He could feel her tense beneath him, but she didn’t flinch. “I shouldn’t have dropped you Sarah.” His voice was plaintive, a perfect imitation of regret. “It was bad form.”

Sarah wasn’t fooled. She wanted to be suspicious, but mostly she was tired. Even her long nap under the sleeping spell hadn’t refreshed her, as though her mind had been off having adventures of its own while her body stayed behind in Pan’s tent. She was certain this was another of Pan’s games for her-after all, he’d claimed showing her the island would be “fun”, and that had turned out so well. She sighed heavily, and Pan felt again an unexpected weight of age in her breath. “Why did you make me a Lost Girl?”

When she spoke at last, her voice was quiet and low. If he hadn’t been so close to her he doubted he would hear her over the sound of the water. He furrowed his brows in confusion-no one ever asked him _why_ he did things-he was Peter Pan, he did things because he wanted to. Something told him that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. He thought a long moment. “Because you belong here.” He said at last, remembering what she’d told him about her search to find magic and the hysterical joy he’d seen when he first called her a part of his island band. “Because you’ve always been a Lost Girl, haven’t you?” A breathy sound escaped her which might have been a laugh.

“Then why don’t you behave that way?” She asked him. When he didn’t respond, she clarified, “Why don’t you treat me like the other Lost Boys?” There was a note of longing in her voice-for what, he couldn’t place-that unsettled him. She stepped quietly away from him, his hand falling from its resting place on her shoulder. He watched as she brushed her fingertips over the fresh jagged surface of a boulder, apparently lost in thoughts at which he could not guess. She looked up at last, meeting his eyes with a blank shield over her own. He frowned. “Why am I still here, Pan?” No. No, he didn’t like this at all-if she left the island he’d never get his answers and all his fun would be stripped away from him. This required drastic measures.

“Peter.” He spoke softly and Sarah blinked, watching with confusion as the demon boy moulded his face into one of concern, of regret-what was happening? _This is a trick._  Her mind warned her. _Don’t fall for it._ He approached her slowly, reticently; the deadly grace with which he normally moved tamped down in favour of something more human. When he took her hand, it was gently. She looked down at their joined hands in confusion. She didn’t know why she didn’t pull away. In this moment the devil seemed more like the angel before the fall, bereft of the domineering aggression he normally showed when this close to her, and his softness pulled her in hypnotically. “Call me Peter.” It was a very good trick.

Sarah’s breathing began to shake, and Pan tamped down a smile from his face. It was working. “You aren’t _like_ the other Lost Boys, Sarah.” His voice was cool and silky, inviting. _This isn’t right._ Sarah admonished herself. _This doesn’t feel right._ “You’re so much more,” He paused, his face so close she could feel the feathers of his words on her face. “ _Special._ ” He was hard to resist when he spoke such inviting words, when charm rolled off him in waves, when his face looked so angelic. She drew her eyes up to his-and drew back. The shadows danced there still.

Pan didn’t let this shake him. He knew what he was doing. “Sarah,” He whispered. His own heart was beating faster now-from the thrill of near-victory, he’d have said-and he raised his hand to gently brush her smooth, soft face. She shut her eyes with a shudder. He smiled maliciously, feeling the odd mood she’d been in give way to her fear and confusion. He’d won. “My own little Lost Girl.”

There could only be sting in tenderness from a viper. “I’m not your Lost Girl.” She wished desperately that her voice did not quaver so when she spoke at last, ashamed of the part of her so drawn to this illusion, this inviting chimera. Pan’s hand fell from her face as he frowned. “I’m not yours.” She said again, her voice slightly stronger. Her eyes flickered open. “I’m mine.” Pan’s laugh was soft and low, yet it grated in her ears. _Well done_. She wasn’t sure if it was her own mind or some outside force congratulating her, but she tried to rally herself to pride in any case. She’d resisted-she wouldn’t be fooled so easily.

“We’ll see about that, little bird.” Pan’s voice dripped in honey, but she could hear the edge of threat creeping back. As for Pan, he knew Sarah could say what she liked-he had seen the weakness there waiting to be exploited, a fear much deeper than anything so mundane as a fear of heights. No, Sarah’s weakness was much more exciting. Sarah’s weakness was him. Smiling to himself, he tightened his grip around her hand, pulling her (despite some resistance) to the edge of the thick brambles growing to the side of the clearing. Lifting his hand, the brambles drew back to reveal a sparkling waterfall.

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. The majesty of silver and azure dancing down to pure crystalline depths before her struck for the moment the unsettling scene in the clearing from her mind. She stepped forward in awe, reaching her hand towards the shimmering waters.

The waters reached back. Several drops rose from the surface of the pool, then wrapped together in a slender waterspout that coiled towards her, wrapping around her hands. Sarah laughed in rapture as Pan, forgotten for the moment, watched carefully from the side. It was true then. He had seen that somehow, for some reason, the island and its inhabitants had reacted to his new Lost Girl. Here, at the centre focus of Neverland’s magic, it was clear. Sarah and the island were connected.  His initial feeling was of anger-how dare Neverland, the land which ran on his belief, form a connection with some useless boring girl from the Land Without Magic-but then, an idea formed in his mind. A slow grin slid over his face. He could use this.

Meanwhile, Sarah watched in wonder as another waterspout twisted from the pool to wrap around her other arm. Then another. Still another, until “Ahh!” She shouted, startling Pan from his thoughts as she found herself aloft, held in curling whorls of Neverland’s silver waters. She was frightened at first, but the cool tendrils wrapped around her kept her steady, and she threw back her head to laugh with joy. _This is what Neverland should be._ She thought to herself. _No games or threats, no cages or fighting._ She closed her eyes, feeling the warm sun bounce off her skin. _Just magic, beauty, and joy._

“Are you quite finished?” She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Pan called up to her at last. However much, it had been too little. She opened her eyes to look down at him; he looked so much less frightening from up here, so much smaller. She shook her head ruefully. She’d never be finished here. Pan quirked his brow, and with a wave of his hand the waterspouts holding her fell back to the pool. She followed after them with a sputter. “Now you are.” He stood at the edge of the pool, laughing, as Sarah thrashed her way to the shore. She glared at him acerbically as she pulled herself out, ignoring his proffered hand.  Was leaving her in peace too much to ask, particularly when she was enjoying herself so much?

“Why did you bring me all the way up here?” She asked bitingly. _If you weren’t going to let me enjoy it,_ her mind added. Pan gazed at her coolly, an expression in his eyes she couldn’t read.

“I needed some answers.” Answers he wasn’t going to share with her, evidently.

“To what questions?” She demanded. He smirked in response.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, little bird.” Sarah bristled. She hated being talked down to.

“I’ll worry my head about whatever I very well please, Pan.” She tossed her head imperiously. Pan only smiled.

“Peter.” He reminded her, and she glared. Why would he want her to call him Peter? What game was he playing now? Pan sighed as though in resignation, closing the distance between them as they stood by the edge of the pool. “Let’s just say,” He began wryly, “That I found more answers than I was looking for.” His voice darkened as his face turned sinister. “But I think _you_ only found more questions.” He lifted his hand to brush her cheek again, and she flinched backwards. In the next moment, he had transported the two back to camp. He leaned close to her ear, whispering. “Something to think about-my sweet little Lost Girl.” Sarah stared after him as he strolled casually away, leaving her alone again in the middle of camp.

He was right about the questions. Sarah could tell his game had shifted, but she couldn’t quite figure how or why. What had all that business in the clearing been about, and why had he taken her to the water fall in the first place? Not to mention, what was the business with the waterfall? Neverland knew her, somehow- and a deep part of her was sure she knew it too. She just didn’t know how. She needed to go after some answers of her own. She turned towards the jungle, resolving on going in search of the answers she needed. A low howl sounded, frightening her back. _Tomorrow morning_. She told herself. _Tomorrow, in the daylight, I’ll find the answers I need._


	24. "Friends"

A number of small fires crackled through the camp, each with a handful of Lost Boys. Sarah scanned the groups, searching for one she could wrangle dinner from before she slept. She caught Arthur’s eye where he sat with Xavier and Rasheed, and he looked away hurriedly. Guilt prickled over her heart. _One last thing to do today_ , she told herself, _This is not going to be fun._ She walked over to the group slowly. As she approached, Xavier whispered something to Arthur, who nodded. He drew his hand away from the older boy’s shoulder as he stood, and drew Rasheed off to the side with a look. Rasheed looked at her warily once before leaving with the redhead, leaving her and the older boy alone. She spoke hesitantly. “Arthur…I’m sorry.”

He looked up at her over the fire, eyes searching for something in her face. Sarah pressed on nervously. “Thank you.” She stared at his feet, uncomfortable with looking him in the eye when he’d stuck his neck out for her only to have her brush him to the side. “Thank you for trying to help me-to shake me out of…” She faltered, searching for the right word. “That.” She drew her eyes backup to look at Arthur, who sighed and patted the log next to him.

“What was that?” He asked keenly. Sarah sighed as she landed heavily on the log beside him. “It was like you were an entirely different person.” She didn’t answer for a long minute.

“I don’t know.” She admitted at last. “I mean I’ve always had a temper, but…” She trailed off. “Sometimes I just get,” She paused, staring into the fire. “So _angry_. It’s like pure rage just rushes through my bloodstream, and I don’t think clearly or kindly or anything like I normally think, I just…” She trailed off, tossing a twig in the fire. Arthur shifted beside her uncomfortably. “The worst part is it feels good, Arthur.” She turned her head to look him in the eye. “It feels powerful. Like you’re electrified, like nothing can stop you.” She sighed. “And I think that’s what he wants.” Arthur furrowed his brows, not understanding who she meant. “Pan.” Sarah explained. “He…” She wasn’t sure how to put into words what exactly Pan was trying to do-mostly because she wasn’t entirely certain she understood herself. “It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “I am sorry though-I really am.”

“I believe you.” Arthur said at last. He broke into a grin. “But remind me never to get on your bad side.” He laughed, and Sarah felt relief wash over her like a cool rain. She threw another stick on the fire with a laugh.

“Yeah, well-maybe you’ll think twice before carrying me tied up through the forest a second time.” Arthur’s chuckle mixed with the shuffle of footsteps as Xavier and Rasheed returned.

“Come on Sarah,” Xavier clapped her on the shoulders, jovial again. “You’re not still mad about that, are you?” She brushed him off and he pushed her off the log playfully in response, reclaiming his seat next to Arthur. Sarah glowered at him from the ground.

“I beat you once Xavier, don’t think I won’t do it again!” The boys laughed at her bluster as Xavier slung his arm back around Arthur’s shoulders.

“If that’s what you call winning a fight,” Rasheed queried with brows raised, “what does it look like when you lose?” With a sigh, Sarah got up and dusted herself off, moving to sit on the third log between the boys. She cuffed Rasheed lightly on the head as she passed.  

“Doesn’t that mouth ever get you in trouble?” She asked lightly. She could feel the stress of the day, the fears and confusions and trials, roll off of her in this company of something very like friends. She could get used to this.

Rasheed looked at her scornfully. “I have the fighting skill to back my mouth up.” He raised his head in the air, trying to look down his nose at her despite his height disadvantage. It didn’t quite work. “Unlike some people.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed. Maybe not _quite_ friends, after all.

“What _did_ you say to Felix earlier?” Xavier’s sly voice slid over to her from across the fire and she groaned. She really didn’t want to rehash all the blows to her pride today. “He seemed pret-ty ticked off.” Arthur covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle a laugh. Now that he wasn’t in a cloud from the morning, he could appreciate how funny the image of Felix carrying her protesting form off to the jungle was. Sarah glared at him, hearing the laugh anyway.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” She began imperiously, shooting Xavier her most cuttingly condescending look, “But I called him Pan’s lap-dog. He disagreed.” Xavier stared at her a long moment before bursting into raucous laughter.

“You didn’t.” He snorted out, slapping the ground with his free hand. “You, _you_? _You_ told Felix he was a lap dog. How are you still alive?” Sarah gave a half-hearted shrug. She didn’t think the details of their fight were really important.

“What a great question, Sarah.” Her blood went cold as a familiar drawl reached her ears. She looked over Xavier’s shoulder to see the tall blonde grinning down at her. “Why don’t you tell them?” Xavier looked between them with amusement as Sarah narrowed her eyes.

“Felix!” Xavier called happily, motioning for him to join them. Despite her glares or perhaps because of them, Felix set himself down lightly beside her on her log, laying his club gently on the ground.

“Go on Sarah,” Xavier needled happily. Arthur knocked his head affectionately, a non-verbal “knock it off”. Xavier’s grin only widened as he pressed the issue. “Tell us the rest of the story.” He glanced at the two sidelong. “We all saw your exit from camp- where’d you go after that?”

Sarah glared into the fire as Felix looked down at her, amused. “Well if you won’t tell the story,” He mused, “I will. I’d just dragged Sarah’s frightened, heavy-”

“Fine!” Sarah threw her hands in the air, cutting him off. She didn’t care for his commentary and part of her hoped if she told the story herself, he’d go away. “We went in the woods to fight it out and I lost. Badly.” Xavier sighed loudly.

“That’s hardly a story at all.” He was almost whining. “You tell it, Felix, and make it interesting!” Sarah threw a pebble at the red-head from the ground near her log. He ducked under it with a grin.

“Well, if you insist.” Felix drawled. Sarah stood in a huff. She didn’t have to listen to this. “Sit down, Lost Girl.” Felix pulled her back down by her hood with a laugh. _Well it’s nice that_ someone _is enjoying themselves,_ she thought acidly. Turning to look at the blonde boy, she huffed.

“I hate you so much.” He grinned his knife-blade grin.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” She growled in response.

“Is this a good plan of action, Felix?” Rasheed’s clear voice interrupted them, and Sarah noticed he was watching her very closely. “I agree she is very weak, but her anger is strange.” Sarah bristled- she wasn’t _that_ weak. _You want to tell that to your fight with Felix earlier?_  Well, maybe she was. Felix looked down to her with brows raised, a serene expression on his face. She hissed through her nostrils, trying to look menacing. Felix snorted.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He pronounced at last. Sarah’s stomach growled, reminding her why she wasn’t blissfully alone in her tent instead of out here. “You still don’t know how Neverland works, do you?” Felix asked her, and Sarah eyed him warily. He held a hand up and closed his eyes. He seemed to be concentrating. Sarah watched in wonder as a gleaming apple appeared in his hand. She looked from the fruit to him, and around at the other boys who watched her shock with amusement-or boredom, on Rasheed’s part. But since when could Felix do magic? The boy in question took a bite of his newly summoned apple. “It’s Neverland, Sarah. All you have to do is believe.”

Sarah furrowed her brows, but slowly the gears in her mind turned over into understanding. She’d already summoned a pair of socks, she realised-food couldn’t be that much harder. She closed her eyes as Felix had done and tried to picture a loaf of fresh bread, warm and crispy on the outside with a soft, fluffy centre. She thought about the wholesome floury smell, felt the heft of it in her hands, _believed_ when she opened her eyes it would be there. Her eyes flickered open slowly-and she shouted in victory. It had worked! Greedily, she tore into the bread, closing her eyes to savour the joy of eating after a long, hard day. Then, remembering she was not alone, she opened her eyes sheepishly. Arthur looked quietly amused, Xavier like he was about to burst out laughing. Rasheed was staring into the fire disinterestedly.

It occurred to Sarah with some irritation that she had Felix to thank for helping her yet again-a situation she did not relish. Grudgingly, she looked over to him, just past his ears so she needn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks.” She grumped quietly, and returned her gaze quickly to the fire. Felix looked at her sidelong, clearly amused.

“You say that a lot, little bird.” His face split into a grin. “For someone who hates me.” She growled and returned to her bread as Felix stood. “Boys.” He said, as way of a farewell. Arthur raised a hand for the pair, and Rasheed nodded. “Lost Girl.” Sarah pointedly ignored him. With a contented sigh, Felix wandered off. If she had to guess she’d say it was an errand for Pan, but who knew what the camp’s second in command really got up to.

Thankfully with Felix gone the conversation turned away from her myriad of humiliations, on to stories of the boys’ days and one thrilling tale from Xavier of the time he’d wrestled a jaguar and won. Rasheed had commented that Xavier was not intelligent enough to realise the “jaguar” was probably an overgrown housecat one of the Lost Boys had imagined, and the two had nearly come to blows until Arthur drew Xavier back beside him. All in all, it was a relaxing time.

At last however, Sarah’s exhaustion got the better of her. She stood with a yawn, bidding her three friends or almost-friends good night and returning to her tent. She wriggled her boots and socks off and collapsed onto the pallet with a grateful sigh. Yes, tomorrow she’d go out and find answers. _But for tonight-_ She was asleep before she finished the thought.


	25. Pond

When the morning mist curled in through her tent, Sarah arose quietly. She slipped her boots on and left the camp before the rest of the Lost Boys were awake, walking slowly through the jungle at first to mask the sounds of her departure. She hadn’t yet mastered the trick of moving silently and quickly-perhaps she could get Arthur to show her later. When she was out of earshot of camp, she picked up the pace, hoping she was going the right way. It took her longer than it had with Felix guiding her, but through luck or the island’s guiding hand she soon found herself facing the wall of boulders at the base of the island’s peaks.

Eyeing them warily, she walked up the side path and along the ridge until she came to the spot she’d been seeking: the pond. Slipping off her cloak and shoes, she waded into the water. Her goals today were twofold: first, she desperately wanted to be clean again. Second, she hoped that whatever had whispered to her-or about her, rather- might give her some of the answers she was looking for. For a few glorious minutes, she simply lay back on the water, relishing its cool clean feeling and the way it tugged gently at her as it ebbed and flowed. Then, she set to work scrubbing at the dirt and salt and other island detritus she’d collected since her last visit here. It felt so good to be clean.

When her skin was rubbed red from her efforts, she admitted to herself that she was stalling. So far every time the island had reached out to her had been wonderful-but for some reason, she was still afraid. She didn’t understand how or why Neverland would know her, of all people. But she wanted to. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she forced her head under the water. _Sarah,_ she could feel the gurgling whispers of before. She wanted to respond, but to speak now would be to let all the pond’s water into her lungs. _Believe._ She scrunched her forehead at the strange command. _Believe in what?_ She thought to herself. Her ability not to drown? She didn’t think her belief was quite that strong.

 _In us._ The response reverberated back, and Sarah smiled as understanding came over her. She didn’t hear the whispers because they weren’t spoken aloud-which meant she didn’t need to speak either. She did need air, however. She bobbed back to the surface for a moment, gasping for breath. Then she sank back down.

 _How do you know me?_ Sarah thought. She wondered if what or whoever she was speaking to could feel the longing in her question.

 _You will remember soon._  She scrunched her face. Remember? So she did know. Or had at some point anyway-but that wasn’t much help to her now! _If you remember who you are._ She knew who she was, didn’t she? She rose up to the surface for air again, thinking over the cryptic answers. She was Sarah Everett, a normal girl from the Land Without Magic. Well, maybe not normal exactly-she had always been a bit strange. But so were plenty of other people, surely. She dove back under again, hoping for more.

 _Can you give me a hint?_ Gentle ripples beat against her. She could have sworn the pond was laughing.

 _The other dreamer comes. Take care, Sarah._ With that she felt a stillness come over the pond. Whatever had been speaking to her was gone now, or at least some place she couldn’t reach it. When she rose to the surface for the final time, she started back at the sight of Pan on shore, watching her closely. _The other dreamer,_ she pondered, _what does that mean?_ If Pan was the other dreamer, who was the dreamer? And what did that mean?

“Like what you see?” Sarah shook her head as the boy’s cocky voice slid to her across the water. She must have been staring at him.

“Hardly.” She forced her gaze away, still contemplating the whispers from the pond. “The view is much nicer without you in it.” Pan smirked.

“Come now Sarah, I know that’s not how you really feel.” Who did this smarmy little weasel think he was, anyway? Sarah turned from him with a splash, paddling with determination to the far side of the pond. There, she tread water while facing pointedly away from him. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he would leave. _And maybe you and Felix will become best friends._ She wished her brain would target its sarcasm at someone other than her. Pan appeared on a rock beside her, dangling his bootless feet in the water. Glaring, she kicked herself away with a jolt.

“Do you have nothing better to do than follow me around?” She demanded testily. Couldn’t she even take a bath without being interrupted? If this kept up she wouldn’t be surprised to find him teleporting into her tent one night while she tried to sleep. The thought made her blush. _Stop that, Sarah._  She scolded herself, diving briefly under the water to cool her face.

She wasn’t fast enough for Pan to avoid seeing her flush, and he wondered at its cause. She was swimming in her clothes, so it wasn’t as if he’d caught her bathing. “Just what are you thinking about, little bird?” His voice was light, teasing. Although her back was to him, Sarah could almost see the smirk plastered to his face. What she wouldn’t give to be able to wipe it off. She didn’t answer. Pan chuckled. “As it happens,” He told her with a mock-seriousness, “You’re absent without leave-we’re meant to be training you right now.”

Sarah rolled her head over her shoulder to stare at him in disbelief, the rest of her body slowly following suit as she bobbed in the pond. “Is trying to kill and/or humiliate me your idea of training?” She hadn’t thought much of any of his “lessons” the day before- the dancing was a blow to her pride and the “reflex training” very nearly cost her life. Not to mention her burgeoning friends’ opinions.

Pan’s gaze pierced into her, and she found herself trying to avoid it. “I don’t _try_ to humiliate you.” He told her earnestly. He sniggered. “You just make it so easy.” Sarah threw her hands along the water to splash him. He averted the droplets with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Don’t start fights you can’t finish, Lost Girl.” He told her dryly. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

 _Don’t._ Her wiser mind warned her. _Don’t take the bait. Don’t-_ “What makes you think I can’t finish this fight?” She demanded. _Why are you like this?_ A part of her moaned. She ignored it. Pan’s eyes glinted impishly, and Sarah felt her stomach flutter.

“Is that a challenge?” His face split into a menacing grin. _Too late to back down now,_ Sarah mused, setting her shoulders back. “Then let’s play.” Sarah yelped as the boy king dove into the water in front of her, sending up a wall of spray from the impact. She turned her head to avoid the droplets coursing towards her face, and looked back to see the radiating smugness of her competitor. Oh, it was so on. She threw herself onto her back with a kick, ropes of water wrapping up to land on Pan’s messy brown hair. Quirking his brow, he snapped his fingers-and Sarah felt the water beneath her swoop over to enclose her briefly in a soaking deluge.

“Magic is not fair!” She sputtered when her head breached the surface.

“There are no rules in Neverland.” He told her with a laugh. Sarah paused a moment, trying to figure out why she felt so off-kilter. _I’m having fun_ , she realised with a shock. And more than that, it seemed Pan was having fun too-and not entirely at her expense for once. Another burst of water to her face brought her abruptly out of her thoughts. She surprised Pan by returning his smirk with a grin as she bladed her hands against the surface of the pond, spinning as she jumped upwards to send white spray in a graceful arc towards him. He shook the droplets from his hair and leered at her. “Time to finish this.” He said darkly. Sarah backed up uncertainly.

She shrieked as Pan kicked off the rock to launch himself towards her, pushing the two of them back almost to the opposite shore. Her foot grazed against stone and she winced. “Splashing is not a contact sport.” She told him sourly. When her leg brushed mud she realised he was still kicking, pushing them back against the sloped bank.

“It is when I play it.” He was close enough to feel her heartbeat quicken as she realised how close he was to her, trapping her between him and the silty shallows of the pond edge. If it wouldn’t have broken his demeanour, he would have sighed in relief. _There_ was the fear he’d been missing yesterday.

Sarah huffed, trying to keep her face even. “Well I suppose if you make whatever rules you want, you’ll always win. Now let me up.” His hands were wrapped around her arms, preventing her from rolling away. She forced herself to keep her breathing slow as she tried not to show her growing trepidation. Pan looked down at her curiously.

“Now why would I do that?” He asked innocently. Her breath hitched as he lowered his face towards hers, whispering. “You’re so cute when you’re afraid.” She turned her face to the side uncomfortably.

“Don’t.” She said steadily. He raised his brow. “Don’t-that. I’m not,”

“Not what?” He questioned. “Afraid? You certainly look it to me.” Sarah didn’t answer, face locked grimly to the side. “Or is it cute you have a problem with?” He let go of one of her arms, using the other to pull her up beside him till the two were seated on the bank. “I wouldn’t be so modest,” He commented casually. “You’re not entirely hideous, and plenty of the Lost Boys don’t remember girls enough to know the difference anyway.” He was surprised when her hand flew towards him, but not so surprised he didn’t catch it before she slapped his face. “Strike a nerve, did I?” He asked calmly, turning his head to see Sarah’s eyes burning with anger. And something else, too-was that hurt? Ridiculous.

“What is your problem?” She demanded angrily. It wasn’t enough for him to interrupt her privacy, invade her personal space, threaten her with actual bodily harm-he had to come after her appearance too? He had some nerve, always flirting with her and toying with her-and then there was yesterday. She was so glad now that she hadn’t fallen for whatever trick he’d been planning.

“It seems like you’re the one with the problem.” He waved her hand before dropping it. She drew it back spitefully.

“You’re the one who-!” She bit her lip, looking off to the side. She had almost said, “you’re the one who keeps flirting with me”, but even thinking it in her head now it sounded ridiculous, and she knew he’d only laugh and act as though she were imagining things. She grunted in annoyance. Gaslighting prick.

“I’m the one who what?” He raised his eyebrow, amused at her frustration.

“Nevermind.” She said flatly, pushing herself off the ground. She was done with this. Pan caught her wrist as she stood. “Let go of me Pan.”

“Peter.” He reminded her, and she turned her head down to him in a fierce glare. He could almost feel her wrist heating up under his grasp.

“Pan is what the Lost Boys call you,” Sarah snarled, “So Pan it is.” She still didn’t understand why the boy king was so insistent on her calling him by a different name-one Felix had expressly told her not to use- but the fact that he wanted it made her sure it was something she’d be better off avoiding.

On the ground, Pan narrowed his eyes at her disobedience. But then, he laughed. He stood with a smile, shaking his head at her. “My sweet little Lost Girl.” Sarah eyed him warily. “Is that what this is about?” He dropped her wrist. “Let me set your mind at ease.” He began to circle her slowly and she tensed. She hated when he did this. “You see, a king needs to know his subjects. That’s the secret to true loyalty, true order. I’m not treating you any differently from the other Lost Boys.”

Sarah snorted. She couldn’t exactly imagine Pan telling Felix how cute he was, or running his hand down his face. Pan ceased his circling to kneel down, picking up a smooth rock from the shore.“Nibs doesn’t like the water.” He skipped the rock across the pond, and knelt to pick up another one. “Cody’s afraid of heights.” The second rock followed the first. “Felix,” Sarah perked up, hoping for something she could use against her enemy. “Well, that’s classified. And you…” Sarah looked at him uneasily, liking neither the direction of his words nor the dark twinkle growing in his eye. In spite of herself she yelped as the boy appeared behind her. “You’re afraid of me.”

She backed several steps hastily away from him and met his grinning eyes with her irritated ones. She _was_ scared of him, but she resented the implication that none of the other boys were. “Anyone would be.” She told the boy icily. “You’re psychotic.” Pan laughed approvingly at what he evidently took as a compliment, and Sarah wondered not for the first time why she had ever wanted to come to Neverland.  “All the boys are scared of you,” She carried on, hoping her voice sounded defiant. “So don’t act like I’m the only one.” Pan moved towards her, the familiar predatory gleam in his eye. She darted to the side, but his arm trapped her by the waist.

“Mm, that’s not the type of fear I mean.” He mused, pulling her closer. “And you know it.” Sarah was sure her heart would pound out of her head at any moment as she felt the familiar freeze of fear wash over her. She put her hands up between them, trying to push away his frustratingly solid form. She turned her head down, away from his very near, too near eyes, but he caught her face lightly in his hand and drew her eyes back up to him. “No,” He said softly, turning her face gently from side to side as though appraising her. “The boys are afraid of what I might do to them.” A lopsided grin spread across his face. “You’re afraid of what I might bring out of you.”

When he let her go at last, Sarah could feel herself shaking. She wasn’t entirely certain what he was implying, but she knew she didn’t like it, whatever it was. “Back to camp now.” He told her, as though nothing had just happened. As he turned to leave the pond, she stooped to pick up a rock and hurled it at his retreating back. It only made it about half-way before it stopped in mid-air and clattered harmlessly to the ground. “Nice try, little bird.” Pan called out lazily. “Next thing I teach you: some semblance of aim.” With a laugh, he ducked through the vines covering the entrance to the pond.

Sarah stared after him, her mind a torrent of thoughts each more unwelcome than the last.


	26. Swords

When several minutes passed and she didn’t follow after him, Pan poked his head back through the vines. “You’re not going to make me drag you back, are you?” He quipped. Sarah shook her head to dislodge her noisome thoughts and walked towards the vines. No, she certainly did not want to be dragged back-especially not by Pan. Trying to regain a semblance of control in their interactions, she looked at him disdainfully.

“Do you expect me to believe you’re actually going to walk back to camp?” She asked haughtily. “I don’t think I’ve seen you travel more than two feet without teleporting since I got here.” She sniffed. “I’m not entirely sure you even know how to use those legs of yours.” Pan raised a brow at her snark.

“I assure you I know how to use all of my body parts.” He remarked drily. He added sweetly, “Anytime you’d like to test them-” Sarah pushed past him with a growl and started along the ledge. He followed behind her with a biting laugh. She moved carefully along the narrow path, hackles raised, until they came to the ridge above the boulder wall. Here she paused, wanting him to move ahead-having him behind her made her nervous. “Something the matter, Sarah?” Pan asked blithely when he noticed she had stopped. He certainly hoped so.

“Other than your presence?” She asked bitingly. “Nothing at all.” The boy king looked at her in mock disappointment.

“And here I enjoy our time together so much.” Sarah snorted as he walked past her.

“I have an idea.” She proffered. “What if you teleport back to camp like I know you’re aching to, and I’ll catch up with you later?” _Much later,_ she added to herself. Pan turned casually to face her, walking backwards down the path with a grace she couldn’t help but envy. He smirked.  

“And miss out on this quality time together?” He asked lightly, shaking his head, “I’d never.” Sarah scowled as he turned back around with a grin. She wondered briefly if she could catch him by surprise enough to push him over the side of the path – that would wipe his stupid grin off his stupid face. _Better not to get close to him,_ she decided at last. For the moment, Pan seemed content that his mere presence was enough to aggravate her, and she relished some few peaceful minutes that passed as the two walked through the jungle. Well, as peaceful as any minutes could be in the presence of someone who might shift faces again at any moment.

For the time being however, she set to wondering again over the words of the pool. What was the dreamer, if Pan was one? The leader of the Lost Boys? The ruler of Neverland? Something else entirely? Frustrated with a puzzle she couldn’t solve, she sighed. “Not getting tired are you?” Shoot, her sigh had recaptured his attention. He was walking backwards again, and she marveled at his ability to avoid the roots and vines without even looking at them. Or maybe the island simply routed itself out of his way. Who could really say?

“Of you?” She groused, “Always.” Pan tsked.

“Careful Lost Girl,” He teased. “I’d hate to have to punish you for disrespect.” Sarah’s face was deadpan, with the tone to match when she responded.

“Every minute I spend with you is punishment enough.” He peered at her in mock confusion.

“Now that doesn’t sound right.” His voice oozed with sardonic innocence. “Your blush whenever I get close to you tells me otherwise.” Sarah bristled as a flush crept over her face. Surely anyone would blush when someone was as close to her as he got! It was a natural reaction to having one’s space intruded upon, regardless of the perpetrator. With a huff, she turned on her heels and stalked along a different path. She didn’t have to stay here and put up with this. “Leaving so soon?” She growled as a familiar green tunic appeared before her. She sidestepped around him – only for him to appear before her once more. She threw her head up to meet his smirk with a fierce glare.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” She demanded for the second time that day. “Don’t you have a camp to run or something?” Pan shrugged, waving his hand dismissively.

“Felix can take care of the camp for a day.” Sarah’s glower only deepened. Great. Good old Felix. Pan’s eyebrows quirked. “But as fun as this has been…” He paused, and Sarah waited nervously. What was he planning now? “I did have plans for you today, and you’ve already derailed them quite enough.” Before she could protest, he gripped her arm and transported them away from the path. When Sarah opened her eyes, they were in a small clearing. The ground here appeared relatively flat and free of stones or sticks, though the odd tree root protruded here and there. She gulped as two gleaming swords caught her eye. Pan strode over to pick them up and turned back to her with a twinkle in his eye. “Catch.” He ordered, gracefully tossing the sword in his left hand her way.

Sarah leaped back with a yelp as the sword clattered to the ground in front of her. Pan rolled his eyes. “There’s another thing to work on.” He commented drily. “Your hand-eye coordination.” Shooting him a glare, Sarah bent down tentatively to pick up the sword. The outer edge of the blade curved, ending in a narrow point at the top and a simple rounded guard at the hilt. About as long as her shoulder to her wrist, it was lighter than she expected – though still unwieldy from its length in her untrained hand. She eyed Pan nervously as he walked towards her, swirling his wrist with the blade in a graceful arc. She brought the sword up defensively and took a step back. _I am so dead._ She thought grimly.

To her surprise, Pan rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to fight you.” He told her tersely. “believe it or not, I brought you here to train you.” Sarah scoffed from behind her sword. She didn’t think much of his training thus far. Pan sighed. “Let’s start with your stance.”  She watched him cautiously as he positioned himself next to her. “Keep your weight on your back leg as much as possible. That will help you respond quickly while keeping a stable base.” Sarah furrowed her brows at the lack of mockery in his voice. It was almost as though he really was trying to teach her. But why?

She stepped her leg back to mimic Pan’s position, resting her weight on her left leg. She stiffened as Pan circled around her to check her stance, nudging her foot or her leg here and there to put her in a more balanced position. “You already know to keep your sword arm up,” He observed. “That’s good. But tilt your other half away. You want to present a smaller target.” She tried this, and the leg with all her weight began to shake. This was harder than it looked in the movies. “You’ll want to work on that.” Pan’s voice was clinical, and she wondered at this different, helpful side of him. On the one hand, it was a great deal more pleasant than his usual demeanour. On the other, the uncertainty of how long it would last made her nervous.

When he was content with her stance, he showed her several drills to practice moving the blade. She nodded silently as he showed her, not wanting to break whatever strange, peaceful spell had come over him. The lesson could almost have been relaxing, if her mistrust of the situation hadn’t been gnawing at her. At last, when he had watched her drill for many long minutes without one smirk or snarky comment, her curiosity got the best of her. “Why are you being so helpful?” She blurted out. _Ugh, idiot!_  She admonished herself. _You just_ had _to look the gift horse in the mouth!_

Pan raised his brows in an expression of amusement. “I do train my Lost Boys, you know.” Sarah blinked. Was he actually counting her in with the rest of the boys for once? His half-smile slid to a smirk. “And besides that, it’s only a matter of time till one of the boys challenges you to a duel.” The smirk became a mocking grin. “I’d hate for you to embarrass yourself.” Sarah grunted.

“I don’t see why any of the boys would challenge me to a duel.” Except for the few she was slowly befriending, the Lost Boys seemed to ignore her for the most part. Felix was an exception, but he seemed to prefer his club to a sword. Her brows furrowed, trying to think of who among the Lost Boys might want to fight her. “There’s Cody I suppose, but I think I can take on a ten year old who’s shorter than me.” Pan shot her a look that told her he doubted that, but she ignored it as she continued. “Xavier seems to prefer his fists, Arthur seems pretty peaceful, and I think Rasheed finds me beneath him.”

“You do seem to have endeared yourself to that little band, haven’t you?” Pan glanced over at her with brow arched. “Arthur was quite a surprise, given his history, but perhaps you’re not enough of a girl to really bother him.” Sarah opened her mouth to bite back at his “not enough of a girl” comment, but quickly shut it again, confused.

“What do you mean, ‘given his history’?” She inquired. She remembered Arthur’s odd response when she asked if he’d known many girls, and wondered again at what had happened to make him dislike her gender so.

“You could always ask him,” Pan offered. “I wouldn’t though.” He could tell by the glimmer in her eye that he had succeeded in rousing Sarah’s curiosity. Good. Arthur’s little outburst the day before told him he’d need to be wary of his Lost Boys around Sarah. It wouldn’t do for them to get too close to her, and if Sarah pried into Arthur’s life before Neverland he knew their nascent friendship would be quickly severed. “At any rate, they aren’t really who I mean. I understand Lucian’s harbouring quite a grudge against you.”

Sarah looked at him in confusion. She didn’t think she’d met a Lucian. “Dark hair, about your age, bit taller than me?” Pan proffered. Sarah wracked her brain.

“Ohhh.” She said at last, remembering the stormy-eyed boy who’d told her girls had no place on Neverland. But what could she possibly have done to him to make him want to fight her? “I don’t believe I’ve done anything to him.” She said slowly.

Pan shrugged. “No? He certainly seems to think so.” Distracted as she was by their conversation, Sarah didn’t realise she’d fallen out of her balanced stance as she moved lazily through the motions Pan had shown her. He noticed however. As she swung her arm forward in a practice blow, his foot snaked up behind her knee. Her weight forward with her sword arm, she lost her balance, tossing the sword to the side so she wouldn’t fall on it.

“Peter!” She yelled from the ground in frustration. A slow grin spread across his face, widening as her angered expression shifted to horror at her own use of his first name. “Pan.” She amended hurriedly. “I meant Pan.” She scrambled up again gracelessly, dusting herself off with a vexed expression. _Well aren’t we getting familiar,_ her mind snarked at her. She told it shut up. She couldn’t say what had made her call a name she hadn’t used since she first came to the island. Perhaps it was his patient instruction, or the relative innocence of their conversation about the other Lost Boys that had set her off her guard.  _Or maybe –_ she shook her head to prevent a traitorous thought from finishing.

Pan watched her inner turmoil with quiet gratification, though inside he was crowing. It was Felix who had given him the idea to try patience, of all things, in his quest to bring down Sarah’s defenses. His second in command had told him with amusement of her clear disgust when she felt obligated to thank him for something. Felix had told him laughingly it was almost more fun to be nice to her than to make fun of her, it aggravated and confused her so much. And so, the swordplay lesson was born. It would have been fun too, of course, to chase her screaming around the clearing with his own sword, or to throw her in with the Lost Boys when they practiced to see how she fared. But there was plenty of time for that. For now, he felt he’d won a great victory.

Sarah set grimly to resuming her drills, wanting something to distract her. She hacked her blade down in an aggressive swing, only for her blade to bounce off metal. She turned her head sharply to look at Pan, who grinned at her lazily. He had blocked her downward strike with his own sword, held casually out to the side. “That’s enough for today, Lost Girl.” He told her. She relaxed her sword arm, but didn’t let it drop entirely; As long as Pan was armed she wanted to be too. With a wave of his hand, the blades disappeared. Where did they go, she wondered? “Head back to camp.” He instructed. She stared at him cautiously. Was he actually letting her free from his presence? Could such things truly be? He turned to walk from the clearing, but paused and turned around again only a moment later. “Oh, and when you see Felix, tell him he was right.” Sarah narrowed her eyes. 

“Right about what?” She demanded. She didn’t want to play messenger with half the information.

 “He’ll know what I mean!” Pan called over his shoulder. Sarah clenched her fists. The boy was infuriating! She didn’t know what had brought about his strange and short-lived personality change to a patient teacher, but she knew she didn’t trust it. Not one bit. With an aggravated sigh, she turned to head back to camp – and stopped. Since Pan had ported them to the clearing, she had no idea where she was.

“PAN!” She yelled to the canopy in frustration. That weasel had planned this, she’d bet on it. As she trudged blindly into the jungle in hopes of any familiar sign, she stiffened. Carried on the damp breeze, she could almost swear she heard his laughter.

 


	27. Parents

Her irritation radiated off of her in waves as she slogged through the jungle, batting at foliage and swatting at bugs. _Why does a magical island even_ have _insects?_ She wondered grouchily. _If_ I _had magic, they’d be the first thing to go._ A persistent fly buzzed around her head. _Or if I were any good at magic, at any rate._ Flailing her hand wildly at the vexatious fly, she sighed. Nothing looked familiar. She hadn’t managed to find any sort of path yet, let alone one she recognised, and as she battled through the undergrowth she started to wonder at what point Pan might send someone out to come find her, if at all. Not that she would want that, of course. It would probably be Felix sent after her, and the last thing she wanted after wandering the jungle was to see his mocking grin. Setting her shoulders back, she soldiered on.

At long last, she broke through the thick foliage to a narrow path. There was no telling which way would lead her back to camp, if the path led there at all. Taking a guess, she tracked left. She’d walked along it maybe half an hour more when she smacked her forehead. What was she doing, wandering blindly around the jungle, when she had an entire magic island on her side? Slowly, she knelt down to rest her hand on the path. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. “Neverland?” She whispered. A slow smile spread over her face as the ground beneath her warmed. “Can you help me find the way back again?” She opened her eyes expectantly, but no friendly bobbing light appeared this time to lead her back.

 _Believe_. She was beginning to recognise the island’s voice in her mind, but she was confused about what she was meant to believe in right now. She already believed it would help her find the way back to camp – though that belief was admittedly fading. Unless...Sarah closed her eyes again, trying to picture her guiding light from before. She could see it so clearly in her head, a soft yellow-white glow like an old incandescent that flickered in and out. She opened her eyes again, staring ahead where she’d picture it on her path. Nothing. She looked around her, thinking maybe it had appeared behind her – no dice.

With a sigh, she plopped down on the path, trying to figure out what Neverland wanted her to do to gain its assistance this time. Her stomach growled. She’d been so anxious to get to the pool this morning she hadn’t bothered to imagine up any breakfast. Lost as she was, she figured this was as good a time as any to eat. It wasn’t long until she was munching happily on toast, hot and buttery and comforting. _Wait._ Her eating slowed. “Of course!” She exclaimed aloud. She might not know the way back to camp, but she could believe something into existence that could help her find it. Maybe a compass? _As if you knew which cardinal direction camp is._ That was true. The heroes in stories always figured out their location by noticing which way the moss grew on trees, or remembering which direction their shadows fell, or some other convenient orienteering trick. Sarah could barely remember which street to turn down while driving home.

No, a compass would do her no good. She didn’t think she could believe up a map if she didn’t know what was on it, and there again remained the problem of not knowing her location in the first place. “Unless it were magic!” She declared with a grin. A magic compass that would point the direction of camp. Could she really make something so specific appear with just belief? _Only one way to find out._ She closed her eyes to concentrate, thinking about what she wanted the compass to look like. It had to be small, something she could carry easily-if she could hide it from Pan, that would be even better. On a cord, like a pendant. That way she could always have it with her. She could see it in her hand, a small brass compass of simple but elegant construction. A single arrow, marked with copper filigree, pointed the way to camp. She could feel it, cool but warming with her body heat in her palm.

Her eyes flickered open slowly. She shouted in triumph. “Thank you, Neverland!” She slipped the cord over her head ecstatically, looking down at the arrow just as she had imagined it. Following its guidance, she turned off the path and back into the rich foliage of the jungle. Her earlier tormenting fly, or perhaps a relative, returned to its post around her head. Though she swatted at it absentmindedly, she was too excited to care. She’d made something with just the power of her belied. And not just toast or bread or whatever stew it was that the Lost Boys were so fond of imagining. Something beautiful. Something functional. Something _magical_. She skipped along through the foliage now, buoyed by ecstatic joy.

When the sounds of chattering boys reached her ear, she tucked the compass inside her shirt. As warm as it was, she was glad for the extra fabric of the hood to hide the small pendant’s outline. She knew she could probably imagine up another one if anything happened to it, but as her first creation it felt special. _I wonder if it will make the trip home with me_ , she wondered idly. She stopped walking, blinking. This was the first time she’d thought about home since coming to Neverland. A sick feeling of guilt washed over her. Was time passing in her world? What must her parents be thinking? They would be beside themselves with worry and fear. Her hands traced up to clutch at her upper arms. What would she tell them, what could she possibly tell them, when she returned?

 _If_ she returned. Pan had said no one left the island without his permission, and she didn’t know how she would leave even if he let her. Then of course, there was the question of if she wanted to go at all. She had been looking for a magical land her whole life. For adventure. For something she couldn’t quite place, but something that felt so close here. Even with all the dangers and aggravations she faced here, she didn’t want to give up when she felt so close to reaching the key to her longing. But her family. How could she leave them, worrying with no answers, with never any answers to come? Would they die while she was stuck here? Her breath hitched. The thought was too horrible.

The air around her felt very heavy. Her breathing grew shallow, and she could feel tears prick at her eyes. “Sarah!” She heard her name called from across the camp. She wasn’t sure by who, it felt as though her ears were stuffed up with cotton. She needed…she needed to be alone. She needed everything to go away. _Breathe, Sarah,_ a part of her tried to calm her down. _How can I calm down,_ she demanded in return, _how can I calm down when I know my family is suffering right now? Because of me? My selfish wish. How could I do this to them?_ _I have to go back. I can’t go back. I have to._

“Sarah?” It might have been a different voice. Blinking hard, Sarah turned stiffly and tore back into the jungle. Though she stuck to the path this time, leaves and vines battered at her face. Soon she was running, trying to outpace the accusations her mind hurled at her and the numb helplessness that threatened to swallow her up. She blinked rapidly as she ran, trying to clear her vision of the stinging wells that blurred the jungle around her.

Eventually her breath began to cut into her side, and though her mind wished to keep running forever, her body would not oblige. She slowed then with lungs burning. What was she going to do? She rested her head on the smooth bark of a nearby tree, gripping at it with clawed hands. Saltwater dripped to mingle with the damp jungle floor. What was she going to do?

She wouldn’t have heard the approaching footsteps even if the owner had made a sound. “Can’t I leave you alone for a minute?” Pan’s voice slid over to her, drenched in sarcasm. Xavier had alerted Felix to Sarah’s odd exit from the camp, and Felix in turn had told Pan. He wasn’t pleased about having his plans for the day interrupted, but he couldn’t very well have an unstable magic user running around his jungle. 

“Send me back.” She whispered against the tree. Pan drew his head back in confusion.

“What?”

“Send me back.” She whirled around, rapidly closing the distance between them and staring up at him with frantic eyes. “You have to send me back.” Pan snarled.

“I don’t have to do-” He broke off, blinking. “Are you crying?” For someone who was the boy king of Neverland, the level of disbelief in his tone was astonishing.

“Send me back.” Sarah pleaded. “I have to get back to them, I. Please. I have to go back.” Something in Pan twisted unpleasantly to see Sarah like this. Crying, pleading – begging him to send her away from Neverland. He looked down in shock as she grabbed his hand in desperation. “Please.” He twisted his hand to grab the offending grip, pulling her wrist upwards so tightly he could see her wince.

“I already told you.” He murmured darkly. “No one leaves this island without my say-so.”

“Then give me your permission.” He realised that aside from her outbursts of rage, this was the longest she’d ever looked him in the eye. His face twisted. Perhaps not entirely- though she was looking up into his eyes her own were glassy. She seemed almost to be looking through him, looking past him to some other time and place he couldn’t see. But he could guess.

“Well isn’t this interesting.” He sneered. “You’ve been searching all your life for some magical land to whisk yourself away to, you beg my shadow to take you to one, here you are!” He looked at her with disgust. “And now you want to go back.” His grip on her wrist tightened further. “Tell me, _Lost Girl._ Just what is so important that you “have” to go back?” He could hear how erratic her breathing was becoming, and though his vice grip held one wrist steady, he could see the other hand begin to quake. “ _Tell me_.” He ordered.

“My parents.” Pan’s eyes narrowed. “They’ll be worried, they’ll-I know they’re so scared right now, they must be in so much pain, I have to-” Her voice sliced out with a whimper.

At her grimace Pan lightened his hold-but only just. “You can forget about them.” He snarled to her. A sick feeling was stirring inside him. He labeled it disgust, disgust at her weakness. “Because you are never. Leaving. This. Island.” He could feel her grow heavier in his grasp, as though her body could not support its own weight. The odd feeling roiled up as he found himself reaching his other arm out to catch her weight. Her freed wrist floated heavily down. She was leaning against his arms now, though she seemed unaware of it.

“They won’t forget about me.” Sarah whispered, her face dropping down. “They won’t-please. Don’t make me do this to them. Don’t make them suffer.” Her breath came in rapid starts. “If I could just,”

“If you could just what?” If she were more stable, Sarah might have noticed that his tone was less than threatening, and she might have wondered at it. As it was, she was in no condition to notice anything. Even the dull ache in her wrist felt far and disconnected.

“If I could just tell them somehow,” She babbled, “If I could make them understand I’m ok. If I could. If I could just make them stop worrying.”

Pan’s face was grim. _This_ was why he only took boys who didn’t care about their families. And whose families didn’t care about them. As Sarah stood shaking before him in the throes of her guilt, he sighed heavily. “Alright.” Sarah looked up at him with a disbelieving hope that made his stomach turn. “You’re not leaving the island.” He added quickly. Ordinarily he would have enjoyed watching the hope in her eyes shatter before him, but for whatever reason he was feeling so off today. “But I think I can arrange something for your…parents.” His lips curled around the word. He’d never thought much of parenting.

The hope in Sarah’s eyes was much more hesitant this time, and tinged by something else. Fear? She spoke shakily, “You…you don’t mean,” He wouldn’t kill them, would he? He couldn’t do that all the way from here, surely? She wrapped her hands around the arms supporting her. The strength of her grip surprised him. “Please don’t,” She choked out, “Please don’t hurt them.” Her vision blurred again.

Pan looked taken aback. Here he was actually offering to do something nice for her, and this is how she thanked him? “Why is your first thought,” He asked incredulously, “That my only way to solve problems is with murder?” Her grip on his arms didn’t loosen, and her eyes ran over his face, searching for something. He didn’t like it. He held all the power in this situation, and yet looking down at her he felt something strangely akin to helplessness. “No, I have a better idea of what to do.” He paused. He needed to regain control, to spin this to his advantage. He smirked. “ _If_ you’re a good little Lost Girl.” The intensity with which she gazed back at him startled him.

“Anything.” She said fervently. A tear rolled down the side of her cheek. “If you’ll promise me they’ll be ok.” Pan raised his brows.

“Anything?” He asked her quietly. “Are you so sure about that?” He leaned down till their foreheads were barely touching. Sarah wrenched her eyes shut as he did so, but didn’t move away. “I’d be careful what I offer if I were you, Sarah.” His voice was low, menacingly inviting. Sarah shuddered and his eyes flashed with glee.

“What are you saying?” She asked shakily. “What is it you want?” Pan drew back from her with a laugh, though his arms still held her up.

“I’ll tell you what, Sarah.” He began lightly. “I’ll make this one on the house.” Sarah furrowed her brows in confusion. What was the catch here? “The other Lost Boys are all loyal to me – and now you will be too.” She looked up at him uneasily. “And every time you think to yourself how much you hate me, how much you despise me,” He grinned. “You’ll be reminded of exactly how much you owe me. Won’t that be a laugh?” At last he stepped away from her, leaving her arms to climb back up over her chest defensively. “Cheer up, Lost Girl,” He told her, roughly brushing away her tears. “Our little game is just getting started.” He turned down the path to walk back to camp.

“Pan!” Sarah called after him. He paused. “Thank you.” Her voice was quiet. When he turned, his face was locked in confusion. He quickly covered it with a studied boredom.

“I’m not doing this for you.” He told her derisively. “I just can’t have you crying and running off into the jungle like a madwoman every day while I’m trying to get things done.” He rolled his eyes and looked off to the side. “Besides, tears make the Lost Boys nervous.” A light smile washed over Sarah’s face. A weak, watery smile, but a smile none the less. He turned around again quickly. “One more thing.” He called brusquely over his shoulder. “You have to call me Peter.”


	28. Game Plan

Sarah followed after him, still a bit unsteady. _They’ll be ok._ She told herself. _They’re going to be ok._ She didn’t know why she was trusting Pan’s word on this. He’d certainly never given her reason to trust him before, and she didn’t have any idea how he could possibly make things right all the way from Neverland. Deep down, she suspected she was trusting him because she wanted to believe what he told her. She wanted to believe she could have her adventure here without hurting the people she loved. And perhaps, she wanted to believe in a Pan she could trust.

She blinked hard, trying to tamp down her emotion. _He told you the game is still on,_ she admonished herself, _you have to get it together fast._ It was difficult. It always was after her emotions got the best of her. She felt stretched and distant, as though she had cried pieces of herself away. Taking a deep breath, she clenched and unclenched her fists slowly. Soon she realised she had better pick up her pace of she wanted to keep up with Pan. His long, purposeful strides carried him with a speed she wondered at considering he had quite literally all the time in the world. What was it he was always gliding off to do, she wondered?

“When something’s your business,” Pan sniped from ahead, “I’ll tell you.” Whoops. Apparently she’d wondered that out loud.  Sarah fell quiet, retreating to the company of her thoughts as the two made their way back. Although she didn’t know it, Pan was doing the same. He vacillated between the puzzle of what to do about Sarah’s parents and the puzzle of why he was bothering with such a problem in the first place. Certainly, having them well in hand would be excellent leverage, should he require it – but that wasn’t what had made him agree to help her. _It’s because a broken toy is no fun to play with_. He rationalized at last. _And because our game has barely begun._

When the two broke the edge of camp, Pan went off quickly with Felix. Left alone, Sarah found herself the subject of stares. She locked her gaze ahead of her, avoiding the eyes of any of the Lost Boys as she walked towards her tent. Shortly she found her path blocked by the stormy-eyed boy who’d taken issue with her presence on the island. Lucian. She stared directly past his ears, as though he were not there, hoping the same trick would work on him twice. With a hard look on his face, he pushed her shoulder roughly. “Had enough of the island yet, girl?” Sarah shifted her gaze to stare at his face. “Looks like you’ve been crying.” Lucian scoffed.

Sarah sidestepped to pass him. She really didn’t feel like doing this right now, not when she still felt so strung out. “I’m talking to you.” He stepped back into her path. She stared at him blankly. Though she kept her face even, inside she was starting to worry. Pan had suggested Lucian might challenge her, and she didn’t think she could take him on even if she were feeling her best, let alone now. She didn’t think he’d stop at simply tackling her to the ground like Felix had, either. No, why ever he disliked her, if he decided to fight her she could be in real trouble.

“Sarah!” Sarah started as a friendly arm slung itself around her shoulder. She looked over to see Xavier grinning at her. She blinked, confused. “Just the Lost Girl I wanted to see. We need you to settle a debate for us, something about the Land Without Magic.” He looked up at the older boy in front of her. “Sorry, Lucian.” He said brightly. “Didn’t mean to interrupt! But you know I can’t go another minute with Rasheed thinking he knows more than me about something.” Lucian scowled. Sarah might have been confused, but Xavier’s act wasn’t fooling Lucian in the slightest. Even so, he made no move when Xavier began to very insistently steer Sarah away, only glared after the two of them. She could run for now, he mused-but sooner or later she’d see how little she belonged here. She’d see – or he’d show her.

“So…” Sarah asked hesitantly, when they were out of earshot of Lucian. “What was your question?” Xavier slid his arm off her shoulders with a laugh.

“Come on, Lost Girl.” He looked at her with brows raised. “You didn’t really believe that, did you?” Sarah regarded him askance, suspicious. Xavier’s eyes widened. “You did.” He burst into another land of raucous laughter, and Sarah bristled. What was so funny? When he had gotten his laughter under control, he shook his head. “That was so obviously just a way to get you away from Lucian, Sarah. He looked like he was about to pound you into the ground.”

Sarah blinked. “But…” She faltered. “Why?” Xavier stared at her.

“I just told you?” He said slowly.

“No,” Sarah clarified. “I mean, why would you care? I thought the Lost Boys fought each other all the time?” She threw her hands up. “ _We_ fought! You punched me first even!” Xavier shrugged

“You stole my lunch.” He said simply. “That was different. Besides, it wasn’t like I was really going to hurt you.”

“My face remembers it differently.” Sarah grumbled. Xavier leaned his arm on her shoulder.

“That was different.” He insisted sweetly. “And I’ll take my “thank you, Xavier” any minute now.” Sarah knocked his arm away.

“I didn’t ask you to swoop in.” She scoffed. “I can take care of myself.” Xavier looked at her doubtfully. “I took care of you!” She insisted. Xavier laughed.

“I suppose you did. But Lucian’s not so…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Easygoing as I am.” It was Sarah’s turn for a doubtful look.

“You and Rasheed practically came to blows last night because he doubted your story.”

“He questioned my honour!” Sarah pursed her lips. As far as she was concerned, her point had just been proven. “Well, never mind.” Xavier told her at last, shaking his head. “I just thought you could use a friend to lean on. You looked…” He hesitated.

“Thanks.” Sarah cut him off. She didn’t really want to know how she must have looked to the camp when she ran out earlier, nor how she looked coming back. The vestiges of the strong emotion were clearing now, thanks to Xavier’s ribbing, but she knew how she must have looked while in their throes. _Weak_.

“I’d say don’t mention it, but I’m definitely going to tell the story of how I saved you from Lucian for many a night to come.”

Sarah surprised herself with a laugh. “Are you going to add in another jaguar?” She asked wryly. Xavier looked taken aback.

“Are you questioning my honour now, too?” He demanded. Sarah shrugged, smiling.

“Maybe.” She gave his shoulder a friendly shove. “Going to punch me yourself now that you stopped Lucian from doing it?” Xavier returned her shove with a grin.

“Maybe I will.” Sarah moved quickly, sweeping her leg around the back of Xavier’s knees to knock him off his feet. Or at least, that’s what she had hoped to do. Xavier’s sturdy build proved surprisingly difficult to unbalance. “Oh it’s on, Lost Girl!” Sarah yelped, dodging back, but before long the two were wrestling on the floor of the camp.

“Alright, alright!” Sarah exclaimed, “You win!” Xavier pounded his fist triumphantly in the air as he sat up, pulling Sarah up beside him.

“Not so tough without your “gravity”, are you Sarah?” He preened. Sarah snorted.

“Hey, you’ve got height and weight advantage on me. I need _something_.” The two laughed together, but Sarah soon fell quiet. “Say, Xavier,” She started hesitantly, not sure of the answer she’d receive. “Can you teach me to fight?” Xavier glanced over at her, perplexed.

“I guess I could try,” He said slowly. “Isn’t Pan teaching you?” Sarah looked off to the side. It was true he had given her the one sword lesson, but beyond that his “lessons” so far hadn’t seemed to teach her much of anything. And of course, there were his unfortunate habits of invading her space, changing faces as the clock hands ticked, and generally being, well – Pan. “You know who you should really learn from though,” Xavier’s face twisted into a half grin, and Sarah eyed him suspiciously. “Rasheed.” Sarah knocked him over the head with a snort. As if she would ever ask that imperious little twerp for help. “I’m serious!” Xavier insisted, laughing. He was clearly not serious. “He’s more your height and weight, he’s been on the island longer, he’s-he’s such a patient, considerate teach-” Xavier could not finish due to his amusement with his own jokes. Rolling her eyes, Sarah pushed herself up. 

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” She told him sternly. “I’m going back to my tent.” Xavier followed suit to stand beside her, his laughter ebbing away.

“After dinner tonight.” He told her. “I’ll help you – or I’ll try at any rate.” He looked her once up and down. “Given what we’ve got to work with!” With a frustrated groan, Sarah left her friend for the comfortable solitude of her tent. She felt better now than she had before, for a number of reasons. The physical exertion of the wrestling, the distraction of Xavier’s humour and gentle needling. And of course, her game plan. First, Xavier would teach her to fight. Then, she’d prove to the Lost Boys _and_ their leader that she wasn’t nearly so weak as they thought. She ducked into her tent with a bounce of joyful triumph.


	29. Monster

The next week passed quietly-or as quietly as it could on an island of rowdy boys always looking for their next adventure. Xavier was true to his word and did his best to teach Sarah some basic fighting skills, with Arthur stepping in every now and again to assist. Rasheed helped in his way by critiquing her form and motivating her to get better – so that she could finally shut him up. Pan, for his part, seemed to be avoiding her. She saw very little of him. She supposed it was possible that he was just busy, but it seemed odd to her when he had been so insistent on badgering her every moment of the day up till now. _Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,_ she had told herself on several occasions. Lessened contact with Pan could only be good for her health.

In the meantime, she spent her days and nights with the Lost Boys, exploring the island and learning new skills. Or trying to, at any rate. Rasheed’s prediction was proven correct: since her arrival, he was no longer the worst shot in camp. She had a little more success with a slingshot than with a bow, but even so she was glad she could imagine up her food instead of hunting for it. As much as they’d frightened her when she first arrived, a slow and grudging acceptance grew between her and many, though not all, of the Lost Boys. A few of them seemed to regard her as a curiosity, and before too long the “Teach Sarah How to Not Suck” school, as Xavier had termed it, had gained several members. Nibs, a dark haired boy who’d scowled when she’d asked if Nibs was his real name, showed her how to start a fire without magic. By the time she’d succeeded, she was almost frustrated enough to have started one with it. Kasim, closer to Xavier in age, started teaching her to throw knives. “So you can throw the dagger next time instead of trying to stab Pan up close,” He’d told her with a grin.

Not all the Lost Boys warmed to her. To stay on the safe side she avoided Lucian as much as she could, though many times she would look up to find him watching her from across the camp. She had a less threatening watcher as well in Cody, who had not forgiven her for embarrassing him in front of Pan. She tried once to make amends with him, but his refusal to respond to her with anything but glares made it clear that was one friend she _wouldn’t_ be making. Several others were less overtly hostile, though she could hear them jeering amongst themselves over her attempts to be one of them. Still, to be friends with everyone had never been one of her gifts. As the days turned over, she grew gradually more comfortable in her new home.

For his part, though he’d never admit as much, Pan _was_ avoiding Sarah. Rather than think about the uncomfortable feelings she had stirred up inside him, he threw himself – and Felix, by extension – into the problem of what to do about her parents. If Felix wondered why his leader was going to so much trouble over the Lost Girl, he knew better than to ask. Every now and again Pan would take a fanatic interest in something (or someone), and Felix had learned it was best to let it ride out. He’d be back to normal before too long, once he’d gotten whatever it was he thought he wanted. About a week after Sarah’s dramatic outburst, the two were brainstorming in Pan’s tent. Pan lay on his back on his pallet, tossing an apple idly into the air and catching it. Felix sat nearby, whittling while he chewed on a stick. Hypothetically, Felix was thinking of ways Pan could keep Sarah’s parents from worrying about her. In actuality, he was far more focused on trying to get the curve of the whistle he was making correct – Sarah’s emotional turmoil was Not His Problem, and Pan would think of something himself soon in any case.

“Felix!” Pan sat up with a victorious grin, his discarded apple rolling across the ground towards him. Felix looked up from his carving. “I’ve got it. It’s perfect.” The villainous twinkle in Pan’s eye almost made Felix feel bad for Sarah – a look like that did not bode well for her. Almost, but not quite. He knew where his loyalties lay.

“What’s the plan?” Felix drawled.

“A forgetting curse.” Pan’s voice was rich with dark glee. Felix’s eyebrows lifted.

“In the Land Without Magic?” He questioned. Pan looked at him with annoyance.

“I can send my shadow there but not one little curse?” Pan scoffed. “I’m Peter Pan. I’ll break the rules in any realm I wish.”

“Peter Pan never fails.” Felix agreed casually. That settled it. Pan stood, stretching.

“I’m off to deliver the happy news.” He remarked. “Take care of camp while I’m gone.” With a nod, Felix tucked away his knife and followed Pan out into the camp. Pan vanished, reappearing at his thinking tree to give instructions to his shadow. When he returned, he scanned the camp in search of his intended target. Ah, there. She stood with Kasim and Rasheed, focusing hard on the tree near her tent where the three had drawn a make-shift target with mud. She raised her hand, hefting a small knife, and threw it towards the target. It hit the tree at least, though not the target. From the nicks in the rope holding her tent in place, he could tell her other shots had been worse. She took a deep breath and lifted another knife. With a devilish smile, he appeared behind her. “You’ll have to do better than that, Lost Girl.” He scoffed. He took a step back, laughing, to dodge the flailing knife in her hand as she jumped.

“Did no one ever teach you knife safety?” Sarah demanded, flustered. Of all the times for Pan to reappear. “Do they not have boy scouts wherever you’re from?” Pan regarded her with confused derision.

“I don’t know what those are,” he remarked disinterestedly, “But they sound boring. Knives aren’t meant to be safe, they’re knives.” Sarah glared at him, her lips thin. “At any rate, lesson’s over. You’re joining me for a walk.” Sarah opened her mouth to protest – she was a free-thinking human, not a dog at his beck and call – but soon thought better of it, sighing.

“Well, thanks anyway Kasim.” She told her instructor grimly, handing him the practice knives she had borrowed. “If I don’t come back it was nice knowing you.” Pan rolled his eyes, impatient. When Sarah had finished her dramatics, he strode purposefully into the jungle. Sarah had to hustle to keep up. “What’s the rush?” She panted. A whole week of limited contact had made her bold, Pan guessed. Well, they’d see how long that lasted.

“I have some very _exciting_ news.” He told her menacingly. Sarah slowed, feeling suddenly wary. What news could he possibly have that would have anything to do with her? “Keep up.” At last, when Pan judged the were far enough from camp, he stopped. Sarah slowed gratefully, head nodding down as she tried to catch her breath. “I’ve decided what to do about your little…parent problem.” He spoke dismissively. Sarah’s head shot up. He hadn’t settled that already? Here she’d been relaxed the whole week, all the while her parents had probably been frantically searching for her, worrying about her. The guilt crept up over her again. Noticing her shift in mood, Pan rolled his eyes.

“Oh don’t start that again, _please_.” He scoffed. “It won’t matter how much time you’ve been gone soon enough, they won’t care a bit either way.” Sarah gazed at him with concerned confusion. Pan smirked. “You wanted them to stop worrying about you, so they will – just like you wanted. Pretty soon, they won’t remember you at all.” Sarah furrowed her brows, trying to process what he was saying. His gleeful eyes bore into her and she felt suddenly very small indeed. “It will be as though you never existed.”

Sarah felt her eyes begin to sting. “What do you mean?” She asked slowly. Pan raised his eyebrows.

“Forgetting curse.” He said simply. “Not foolproof of course – if they ever saw you in person they’d remember quick enough, but –” He tilted his head, smiling. “We both know there’s no chance of that, now don’t we?” Sarah’s hands crept over her arms. This is what she had wanted, wasn’t it? To have her adventures without her parents worrying? All the same, the idea of her parents forgetting about her completely, her parents who had always loved her as best they knew how, for it to be as though she had never even existed to them? That _hurt._ She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek and clenched her fists, trying to distract herself and keep from crying. Her short nails dug into the palm of her hand.

 _Don’t cry._ She ordered herself, taking a deep breath. _Not in front of him._ “Is that all?” She asked at last. Her voice came out strained, and Pan could see the glassy drops threatening to overspill onto her face.  She turned her face up, blinking, as though she were looking at a bird in the high canopy. When she brought her head back down to look towards him, the imminent tears were less obvious. “Can I go?” He could almost admire her determination to pretend she was fine, however poor the results.

“What’s the matter, Lost Girl?” He taunted cruelly. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Yes.” Her reply was robotic. She just wanted him to leave so she could have a good, long cry. After that she could keep going, she could be rational and realise how much better this was for her parents in the long run, even if to her it would always hurt. “Yes, it is. Thank you, Pa – Peter.” Pan frowned. He’d been prepared for tears – he was in the mood to enjoy them today – not this. This was too much like her mood at the waterfall, after he’d dropped her in mid-flight. Where was that fire, that dark exciting shadow in her eyes? Why wasn’t she fighting him? And if she wasn’t going to fight him, she might at least have the decency to cry, or scream at him, or something.  

Sarah had turned from him, walking slowly and stiffly into the jungle. Not towards camp, she didn’t want to be around the Lost Boys right now either, but along a separate path she hoped would take her to solitude. Pan appeared in front of her, arms crossed. “I don’t remember saying we were done, Lost Girl.” His voice was low and threatening.

“Was there something else?” Whatever her eyes told him, her voice held no emotion. His eyes narrowed.

“As a matter of fact, yes. You’re behind on your training.” Sarah blinked rapidly, but kept her face otherwise even. Inside, she wanted to scream. Couldn’t he give her five minutes to process this? He’d avoided her all week, for him to decide that they needed to pick up where they’d left off _right now_ of all times felt like a slap to the face. She took in the dancing shadows glimmeringly sadistically in his eyes. _He knows it does._ She thought to herself. _He knows, that’s why he’s doing it._ She took a deep breath to keep her tears at bay. But with that breath, she could feel some of her sadness shift – to anger. Her strong emotions had always flowed easily into each other. Her anger often made her cry and her tears often made her angry- but she couldn’t afford to show either of those things now. Not in front of Pan.

“Fine.” She stared past him into the jungle, fearing that if she looked at him she’d lose her control. “What are we doing today?” Pan’s face twitched into a scowl as he glared down at her. It felt as though she were ignoring him, and he didn’t care for that at all. Well. That wouldn’t last long, not if he had anything to do with it.

“I think it’s time for another game.” He told her darkly. A smirk twisted onto his face as her breath hitched, the burgeoning anger losing out to fear. Dark red smoke clouded around them, and the two soon stood on a jagged ledge. Sarah almost lost her balance as soon as they appeared, her foot having landed only halfway on the ledge. She stepped back hastily, trying to keep her eyes from the tree tops below. Nearby, a thick rope was staked to the ground. She followed it with her eyes across a wide chasm, to another ledge like the one they were standing on. Something in the back of her mind told her this should concern her, but a slow numbness was spreading across her. “Do you know what we’re going to play today, Sarah?” She stared silently ahead. “We’re going to play circus.”

Although she knew from experience that he was serious, her mind wouldn’t process his words as reality. She felt disconnected, only focusing on one dull, thudding thought: _They’re going to forget you. You’ll never see them again._ Her lack of reaction irritated Pan to no end. Why wasn’t this working? She was terrified of heights, he’d seen it as plain as day. Did her stupid parents really matter that much to her? He couldn’t understand it.

“Aren’t you listening?” He growled. Sarah looked at him slowly, blinking. She didn’t have anything to say. It felt as though a heavy weight had settled around her, pulling down her limbs and smothering her voice. “Nothing” evidently was not the answer Pan was looking for. In moments he had grabbed her arm and slammed her against the rock wall of the ledge. Sarah closed her eyes, wincing at the pain of the collision as her head knocked back against the jagged rock. She opened them again slowly, breathing through the pain. Even at this harsh treatment, the dark cloud that had settled over her would not allow her to speak. For once, even her own mind was quiet.

Pan’s eyes bore into her, a snarl chiseled into his features. “I did what _you_ asked me to do, Sarah.” His voice was almost a whisper. “What you _begged_ me to do. You wanted your parents to stop worrying, and _I_ made it happen.” She gave him the slightest nod, but her eyes still stared past him. She knew that. She just- _I need time_ , Sarah wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t. Her jaw was too heavy to move, her brain too cotton-stuffed to form words. Growling, Pan slammed her other arm against the rock face, holding her in place. Jagged shards bit into her skin, tearing at the thin upper layers, and a strained whimper escaped her throat.

Pan seized on the sound, eyes flashing. “Is that what it takes?” His voice held a note of frenzy. It reminded her of their second time on the cliffs, when he’d demanded to know why the mermaid had spared her life. If her mind were functioning normally, she knew she’d be terrified right now. With a malevolent smile slowly carving its way on to his face, he dragged her arm down the rock wall. Her breath hitched as she felt her skin break against it.

She mouthed “stop”, but only a whisper of sound came out. Her eyes followed a flock of dark birds as they took flight from the canopy below. What she wouldn’t give to be among them right now. “Look at me!” Pan demanded. Sarah’s head shook stiffly, almost imperceptibly, her mouth clamped shut in a tight line. If she looked at him now, she would cry or scream. She wasn’t sure which, but somehow she knew to look Pan in the eye would be to lose her tenuous control. He grabbed her face roughly, dragging her eyes to meet his own.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed even as the earlier tamed tears welled up again, and she glared at him through a waterfall of hate. “Can’t you give me _five minutes_ to grieve?” Her voice bit into the stone around them. She didn’t yet dare call him a monster aloud, but he heard the implied epithet hanging on the end of her words loud and clear.

Pan snarled. “Grieve what?” His voice bit back. “A pair of people who you clearly didn’t care for much at all, if you begged a children’s story to carry you away from them and didn’t so much as think of them for days?” There was no hiding the tears now, and they rolled down her cheeks even as her eyes daggered out their hate. How _dare_ he. Her mind had whispered his words and more to her on its own, but to hear them from his mouth felt a special kind of injury. Her free hand flew to his grip on her face, prying at it as she dug nails into the soft flesh of his wrist.

“You. Know. _Nothing._ ” She seethed. He slammed her hand back into the rock wall, and she growled, struggling against him now with a vengeance. “I don’t expect _you_ to understand, you don’t care about anyone but yourself.” It was his turn to narrow his eyes. “Maybe because no one else will. Is that why you brought all the boys to this island?” A sickly grimace curled up over her features as she spat the words. “Couldn’t find anyone to care about you, so you had to force yourself some friends through intimidation and fear? Is that it?” She felt the blood trickle down her arm as Pan pressed it angrily against the jagged rocks.

“I rescued them!” He spat. “I rescued them from lives where no one cared about them, from lives where they were mistreated, forgotten, unloved.” Sarah gave a harsh, sarcastic laugh.

“So you could mistreat them yourself.” She accused, shadows swirling in her eyes. She was bold enough now. “You _monster_.” She could feel warmth trickling to her hands. Pan would regret teaching her to summon fire. She would _make_ _him_ regret it.

Pan leaned forward, glaring into her eyes with the gleaming shadows of his own until their faces were mere inches apart. “I wouldn’t test me,” He whispered darkly, “If I were you.”

 _“_ You tested me first.” Malice dripped from her words. She would make him regret _everything_ , everything he had done to her since she’d fallen onto this island. “And now you’re going to _suffer_.” The warmth in her hands burst to flames with the heat of her rage, crackling up to consume the object of her hatred. Yet incineration was not in the cards for Pan just yet. Her circling flames were fated to be short-lived, extinguished in an instant as her enemy’s lips crashed onto hers.


	30. Rules

_What the-_ the anger coursing through her was quickly overridden by shock. Her brain jumped in panicked circles as Pan’s lips pressed forcefully against her own. What was happening? And more importantly, how did she stop it? Her arms locked in place, she did the only thing she could think to do: She bit down, hard, on the offending mouth and the sick taste of iron filled her own. Pan drew his head back quickly, releasing her arms as he drew his hand up to his mouth. Slowly, he wiped away a trickle of blood. There was nothing slow about Sarah’s movements, who leapt like a startled deer away from him and the rocks. Spitting the metallic taste from her mouth, she searched frantically around her, scooping up a sizable stone fallen from the side of the mountain. She held it aloft at some distance, staring at Pan with widened eyes. Pan looked from the blood on his hand to Sarah, an unreadable look in his eye. “Don’t come any closer.” She called out. She cringed to hear how high her voice sounded. Puffing out a ragged breath, she forced her voice back down to its normal register. “I mean it.”

Time seemed to slow for her then as her brain tried to make sense of what had just happened. She wiped frantically at her mouth with her shirtsleeve, keeping a watchful eye on Pan over the top of her arm as she did so. It helped little to take the feeling away. Her heart felt as though it would soon burst from her skull, pounding wildly in fear, confusion, and a third feeling she couldn’t quite label but disliked all the same. What sick new game was he trying to play with her? And why now? Because she’d threatened him?

A slow smirk slipped on to Pan’s face as he watched her. “What’s the matter, Lost Girl?” He called to her. “Never been kissed?” He leaned to the side as Sarah hurled her rock at him. Then, realising she’d left herself weaponless, she scrambled around her for another one. He snickered. If he’d known how much it would unnerve her, he might have tried this days ago. It hadn’t been his exact intention just now – he wasn’t sure what his intention was, nor did he give it much thought. Something about the rage, the venom that took over her every now and again entranced him. Even as it angered him in its resistance, the familiarity of Sarah’s darker state of mind called to him as though from a kindred spirit-something he’d found very few of in his long life.

“It’s customary to ask first!” He was drawn back to the moment by Sarah’s reprimand. She stood guarded, second rock high in hand. _Of all the nerve,_ she seethed to herself. She had been kissed, and bestowed kisses in return, on several occasions. She wouldn’t rank it among her favourite pastimes, but at least in the past she’d always been a willing participant. She wanted to leave the ledge and put as much distance as she could between herself and the boy king, but she feared if she took her eyes off him for even a moment she’d soon find him directly in front of her. In her space.

Pan rolled his eyes. “There are no rules in Neverland.” He reminded her.

“Every game has rules!” His eyebrows raised at the vehemence of her reply. She pressed on. “You always say we’re playing a game, so I think it’s time we established some ground rules.” She lowered the rock somewhat – her arm was getting tired. “Rule number one: none of – ” She paused, gesturing with flailed arm at the rocks, “That. Ever.” She stared into his face, trying to impress that she was serious.

“Or what?” Pan asked lazily. It was almost cute that she thought she could dictate the rules of their game. Sarah’s eyebrows scrunched a moment in fierce thought- she hadn’t thought of how she’d actually leverage such a rule.

“Or I’ll stop playing.” She said at last. Pan laughed. “I’ll go off and live with the mermaids or something, since at least they know how to keep their hands off of people.” Pan watched her for a long moment. He was tempted to tell her to go ahead and drown with the mermaids, if that’s what she wanted. Instead, he shrugged.

“Fine.” He told her casually. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. He put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “I won’t kiss you again,” His eyes flashed wickedly as he tilted his head cockily. “Until you want me to.”

“When hell freezes over!” Sarah bit back, her rockless hand clenching into a fist. She could feel a flush creeping over her face. Peter Pan could be as pretty as he wanted to, it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. Not so long as he had the personality of a criminally insane weasel. “Are we done here?” She demanded. “Or did you have some other fresh hell to inflict on me today?” Pan’s eyes glimmered with amusement.

“As a matter of fact, I did.” Sarah barely suppressed a growl. “But I think it can wait till nightfall.” He clapped his hands together. “Take the day off, Lost Girl, and rest up – you’re going to need it.”

“What happens at nightfall?” If her eyes were any narrower, she wouldn’t be able to see him. He laughed at her suspicions. He didn’t know yet himself, but he imagined they would prove to be more than justified.

“You’ll see,” His words dripped threat, and Sarah felt her breath hitch in spite of herself. She would show him, though. Whatever it was he had planned, this time she wouldn’t let him win. _He wants to play games?_  She told herself grimly. _Then let’s play._ “I’ll see you tonight, Sarah.” He broke into a grin. “If you can get down, that is.” In a swirl of dark red smoke, he was gone. Sarah hurled her rock at the mountain side in frustration. She looked around her for a way down. There didn’t seem to be a path on either side of the ledge. Cautiously, she looked over the side. She might have been able to climb down – if she were half spider, like she suspected Felix of being. Warily, she eyed the rope stretched across to the other ledge. _Oh no. No way._

There was no other way, or at least none that was readily apparent to her. _Come on, Sarah_. She steeled herself. _You can do this._ She wished she could believe herself. Slowly, she sat on the edge of the ledge by the rope. She wrapped her hands around it tightly – and sat back, unable to force herself off. “I _can’t_ do this.” She could just stay here till nightfall, right? Besides, she had wanted to be alone earlier. There was no way any of the Lost Boys would come up here, probably. She was a bit surprised to find that she no longer felt like crying. The anger and shock she’d experienced in the meantime had burned her out on emotions, she supposed. Remembering Pan’s promise of a memory curse still ached as her longing for magic had ached, deep and hidden, but she had convinced herself that it was for the best. Even if he’d chosen a way he knew would be painful to her – that conniving devil – it wouldn’t be painful to them.

Alright, maybe she felt a little like crying. Left alone to think about how she would never see them again, the tears welled back up. And what had she left them for? To be a toy, a game to an unstable boy with a god complex? Leaning her face against hands curled into fists, she laughed – and then she cried. Silently at first, then in waves of sobs the likes of which she was grateful no one was around to hear. No one except the island. _Sarah_. She could barely hear its voice through the sound of her tears. _Sarah._ The voice was calming, concerned. Slowly, her sadness and frustrations quieted to low murmurs. _Remember who you are._  She sniffed.

“What does that _mean_?” She asked despairingly. “Please, can’t you give me more of a hint? I don’t-” She hiccupped. _Why did you come, Sarah?_ She sighed. “I’ve been asking myself that, too.” There was no response. Perhaps Neverland did not understand sarcasm. “For the magic.” She said at last. She took a deep breath to chase away the clinging tears, and sighed. “And the longing- to find what it is I’ve always thought I was meant to do, where I was meant to be.” _Then find it._ She felt, she wasn’t sure how, that the conversation was over. Still, she felt bolstered. From the catharsis of a good long cry, or the morale boost of having a magical telepathic island on her side, who knew – maybe both. Either way, she set her shoulders back.

“That’s right.” She declared. “I came here for magic, I have magic, and I’m going to use that magic.” She looked down. “Starting with a way down this cliff.” The question, of course, was how? She closed her eyes, trying to think of something she could believe in to help her off. A ladder maybe? It might be hard to balance it on the jungle floor, and she had always hated ladders. Yet, no other thoughts occurred to her. So, she set to the task of imagining one. It needed to be wooden, she decided- she couldn’t quite picture the orange aluminum contraption her father kept in the garage standing against a cliff face in Neverland. Smooth wood too – she wasn’t about to add splinters to her list of island injuries. She could see it leaning against the ledge below her, rising from sturdy stone supports at its base that anchored it against the ground. She ran her hand along the ledge, feeling for the first rung.

With more trepidation than she thought was really good for traversing an object formed entirely from belief, she made her way carefully down. _This is a very real ladder_ , she told herself repeatedly. She didn’t want it to fade from existence before she had made it to the ground. At last, her feet felt the solid earth beneath them. With a sigh of relief, she opened her eyes to see the tall wooden ladder she had just climbed down. It looked out of place in the wild jungle, a stout symbol of civilisation in the midst of untouched wilderness. Sarah frowned a moment, peering at it, then smiled as it changed before her to a spreading canvas of flowered vines. _Much better_. She nodded, pleased with her handiwork. Believing was beginning to come more easily to her, almost as though it were a skill she’d once mastered but forgotten she had.

 _Perhaps it is_ , she thought idly as she drew her compass out from beneath her shirt. It still thrilled her to look at, that she’d made a thing of such simple beauty. Her eyes flitted to the flowering vines of her ex-ladder, then around at the dark jungle and the jagged rocks of the ledge above. _What could the island be,_ she wondered, _If I turned my imagination on it?_ The island hummed in response.


	31. Preparations

Thanks to her compass, the return journey to camp was uneventful. She’d had to circle around the base of the peak, and that had taken some time, but before long she heard the familiar shouts of the Lost Boys. “Sarah!” Xavier broke away from Arthur at a run when he saw her enter the camp. Seeing  a mischievous twinkle in his eye, she steeled herself. He had taken to surprise attacks to “improve her reflexes”, though personally she suspected many of the Lost Boys just liked any excuse to roughhouse. She tried to dodge as he torpedoed towards her, but the younger boy had soon tackled her to the ground. The two wrestled there for several minutes before Xavier at last relented as the obvious victor. “You’re getting better.” He told her, grinning as he helped her back to her feet. Sarah snorted.

“You want to tell that to my bones?” She grumbled. “Geeze Xavier, you’re like a one-person semi truck.” Xavier furrowed his brows at her. “It’s a…never mind. It’s big, it’s heavy, and it’s bad if it runs into you.” Xavier laughed – he’d take that as a compliment. His partner soon came to join them.

“You’re getting better.” Arthur observed, resting his arm back over Xavier’s shoulders. Sarah looked at him suspiciously. It certainly didn’t _feel_ as though she were getting better. Arthur smiled. “Just got to be patient, Sarah. We’ve been here forever and a day – you just got here.” Sarah sighed, but tilted her head in acknowledgement.  She knew he was right, but being patient was hard when she was bottom of the pecking order. “Besides, Xavier’s built like a brick – even _I_ might have some problems wrestling him.” He ruffled Xavier’s shock of curls affectionately.

“Made it out alive after all, Lost Girl?” Kasim asked, glancing at her sidelong. “Maybe now we can finish that lesson.” Sarah laughed dryly as her expression shifted to grim resignation.

“Day’s not over yet Kasim.” She told him. “I’ve been reprieved, not released.” The boy arched a brow under his neat dreadlocks. “Pan says I’ve got until nightfall.” Squinting, her eyes passed over the three Lost Boys. “I don’t suppose any of you three know what fresh nonsense he has planned today?” Friends or not, they were still his minions at the end of the day. Much as she was growing to like them, she was pretty sure if push came to shove whose side they’d be on. Kasim shrugged.

“You think he shares his plans with us?” He challenged. True, Pan didn’t seem the type to share his thoughts. She wondered not for the first time why they were loyal to him. Part of it was fear, she knew, but there were so many more of them – surely that couldn’t be the only reason. She was tempted to ask, but she didn’t want to risk alienating her allies on the island. Even if they couldn’t or wouldn’t help her against Pan, any level of friend was better than none. And they’d already tried to help her twice between them, not to mention the lessons. No, she decided, it was better to remain in their graces if she could. “Sarah?” Kasim prompted. Oops, she must have missed something. She looked at him, blinking. “Xavier’s question?”

“Next time you space out while I’m talking, I’ll tackle you again.” Xavier threatened happily. “How’d the training go?” She must have looked confused, because after a moment Xavier clarified. “With Pan? Just now?” Oh.

“If that was training, I have a lot of questions about what you all get up to on this island.” Sarah remarked with a snort. “Never mind.” She added, seeing the questioning looks of her companions. There were some details they were better off not knowing.  “Just…Pan messing with me, is all.” Under her breath, she added, “That evil little weasel.”

Kasim snorted. “He can be strict, but I’d hardly call him evil.” Sarah stared at him in disbelief. Was he serious? “I mean, I don’t know what you did to piss him off so much, but everything he’s done for us definitely isn’t evil.”

“Why do you assume I did something?” Sarah demanded. Later she might wonder about what exactly Pan had done that Kasim felt so much gratitude, but right now she was too busy being annoyed. “All I did was show up!”

“You did try to stab him,” Kasim pointed out. Arthur looked uncomfortable.

“He tried to kill me first!” Sarah insisted. “On more than one occasion! Unprovoked!” Kasim put his hands up.

“Look, I’m not here to start a fight with you Sarah – not that you’d win even if I were. I’m just saying we all owe a lot to Pan, so you’ll forgive me if I have a hard time seeing him as a villain.” Although his voice was even, she could hear the annoyance creeping in around the edges.

“See him how you want.” She grumped. So much for her tentative allies. “I’ve got to go imagine up a snack or something, so I’ll see you all later. _If_ your benevolent overlord doesn’t kill me first.” She walked away from the group in a cloud, intent on ducking into her tent to brood.

In the trio she’d left, Arthur sighed. “What?” Kasim asked defensively. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. We _do_ own Pan a lot, and when you’re loyal to someone you back them.” He leveled the other two with a questioning gaze. “Unless you’re letting your new friendship undermine that loyalty?” Xavier shrugged – sure, he was loyal to Pan, but he didn’t think it was as serious as Kasim was making it out to be. Sarah would figure out sooner or later that his volatility was just part of the game, the price of the new lives he had given them all. And in the meantime, her palpable dislike for their leader was funny as heck.  

Arthur, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable. “Things are…different for Sarah.” He said slowly. “ _Sarah_ is different. I don’t think she sees the same Pan that we do.” He added quickly, “Not that I’m not loyal to Pan. I am, of course. I just –” Kasim raised his brows. “I don’t know if his plans for her are exactly…benign.” The three were silent a long moment.

“Eh, not really my business anyway.” Kasim said at last with a shrug. “Whatever’s between them doesn’t concern us. Xavier, have you been working on your sword arm? Nibs is getting cocky and I think you should take him down a peg.” The conversation so changed to lighter things, feats of adventure and the business of the island, and Arthur’s doubts faded quietly to the back of his mind.

Sarah, meanwhile, had dove face-first onto her pallet once the ties of her tent were secured. “ _Don’t know what you did to piss him off”_ , she recalled grumpily, _don’t know what_ I _did? What about what_ he _did?_ She tried to reason with herself, arguing that it was natural for someone to side with the person they had known longer, especially if they felt indebted to them. Even so, she was annoyed that she seemed to be the only one who saw Pan for what he was. It was true, he probably didn’t treat the Lost Boys in…she flushed. _Quite_ the same way. But he had admitted to her that he used their fears to keep them in line. Surely they could see that wasn’t right?

Pan seemed to think he had rescued them from something terrible, and the boys apparently agreed. Whatever it was must have been truly horrible for them to be blind to his flaws. Or maybe…maybe that was just how they coped with the fact that they couldn’t leave? It was possible, she supposed, that after a long enough time with no hope of escape, their brains might rationalise their presence on the island with the idea that the island was better than wherever they had left. She wondered if her brain would do that too, eventually. _No._ She decided firmly. _No, I’ll never see Pan the way they do._ Even if she stayed here forever. No matter how long “forever” was on this island, “never” was longer.

And on the subject of Pan, she wanted to be ready when he came back tonight. She always felt ten steps behind him, thrown unprepared and defenseless into whatever game he wanted to play that day. She’d had enough of that. Putting her imagination to work, she tried to think of things that might be of use for whatever unpleasant surprise awaited her with the setting of the sun. Two hours later, she’d armed herself with a coil of light rope wrapped around her waist like a belt and a pendant knife in a thin leather sheath, about the length of her palm. She had first tried several variations of more impressive weaponry, a range of boot knives, wrist knives, and even a leg holster for a dagger. Believing them into being had been easy, but walking with them was a different story entirely. And in the end, the pendant knife, though small, was easily hidden. She didn’t think it would be good for Pan to see her with weapons.

With her new equipment, however sparse, she left her tent. As nice as it was to be undisturbed, the small space was beginning to feel cramped.


	32. Angel

She came out to a circle of boys cheering around two figures clashing in the center. Craning her neck, she spotted Nibs and Xavier hacking away at each other with long sticks. The two traded strikes back and forth for so long, it appeared they were evenly matched. But at last, Nibs sent Xavier’s stick flying with a graceful parrying motion Sarah envied. Some of the boys cheered, some of them groaned. Nibs raised his fist and shouted victoriously, while Xavier, laughing, made a show of bowing to his opponent. Watching them like this, they seemed so innocent. It was hard to believe this was the same bunch who had chased her, threatened her, imprisoned her in a cage.

“What about you?” With one exception. The circle opened on Sarah to show Lucian across from her. He tossed a stick to her feet. “You think you’re one of us? Prove it.” Sarah narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.” She told him icily. _I should have stayed in the tent._

Lucian walked towards her, his own stick in hand. “Sounds to me like you’re scared.” He taunted. The boys around them fell silent. “Pick it up.” Sarah stared at him a long, tense moment. Then, slowly, she lowered herself to pick up the stick. The moment she was standing again, Lucian came at her. She threw the stick up before her to try and block the swings. For every one she did, another two went through her guard to collide with her torso, her legs, her arms. He was _strong_ , and even when she blocked his stick with her own, the impact sent shocks through her arms. She staggered back, but Lucian was unrelenting.

“You already won!” Someone called. Her head was ringing, but she thought the voice might have been Xavier. Gritting her teeth, she changed tactics. _If we’re beating each other senseless, might as well get a few in of my own_ , she told herself. She swung at Lucian, who brushed her stick to the side before wrapping around to hit her again. _Ok, never mind._ She had to end this somehow. But how? Lucian’s stormy grey eyes held a cruel anger that she wondered at. All she’d done was show up here, what could she possibly have done to him?

“What did I do to you?” She panted out. If she was going to get beaten up, she at least wanted to know the reason. Her opponent’s answer was punctuated by swings.

“You.” She blocked a blow. “Don’t.” Her arm took the hit. “Belong!” Sarah crumpled to the ground as stick and head collided. The group went silent as Lucian threw his stick to the ground, breathing heavily. “And now everyone can see it.” He said quietly. When Sarah didn’t get back up after a minute, the group began to whisper.

“Move.” The boys cleared a path for their leader, who strode with a dark look to the center of the clearing. Lucian stepped back as Pan knelt beside Sarah, peeling back an eyelid. With a sigh, he glared up at Lucian. “You’ve ruined my plans for the day, do you know that?’ The boy’s eyes widened. He had expected Pan to congratulate him, or at least approve of his actions. Hadn’t he told the boys to make her “welcome” her first night? He opened his mouth, but Pan cut him off. “Never mind. Leave camp for a while, will you?” He scooped Sarah into his arms as he knelt, taking special care to avoid jostling her head. “I don’t think you’d like it if I see you while I’m dealing with this.” As the dark smoke enveloped them, Lucian stared. The other boys murmured amongst themselves as he turned and walked stiffly into the jungle.

Back in his tent, Pan lay Sarah carefully down on his pallet. “Can’t leave you alone for a minute.” He sighed. Looking down at her, his eyes caught sight of two cords around her neck. Pan furrowed his brows. What was that? Slowly, gently, he drew the cords out from beneath her shirt to reveal the compass and the knife. Now where had she gotten these? She certainly hadn’t had them when she’d first come to the island. The knife was simple enough, but the compass intrigued him. He turned it over with interest. It was a pretty sort of thing, but the arrow appeared to be broken. What was it for? He closed his eyes, concentrating. It had the feel of Neverland magic. He opened his eyes again, shifting it one way and then the other. Each time the fine filigree arrow spun, but came to rest pointing nowhere at all. No, not nowhere. Rather than pointing in one of the planes, it was pointing up – whatever it was pointing at was here. A slow smile crept over his face as understanding snapped into place. _Clever girl_.

He had a good idea where the knife had come from now, though what good she thought the tiny blade might do her he could only wonder at. Far more interesting was the compass. She’d believed not just a regular object, but an enchanted object into being. And not one that had likely existed before. _More and more interesting_ , he mused to himself as he set the pendants back down over her chest. She didn’t stir. Just how hard had Lucian hit her? Frowning, he pinched her ear lobe. Her head moved away from him, and her eyes fluttered slowly to a half-open state. Her head rolled against the pallet as she looked around, unfocused. “Am I dead?” Her words were slow, and her voice sounded far away. Pan looked at her sharply. Her head rolled towards him; it appeared she was trying to focus on him. “Are you an angel?” Her hand drifted up towards his face.

“Quite the opposite.” He said coldly, gazing down at her with eyes widened. “I see you didn’t take my swordplay lessons to heart.” Her face scrunched, confused. Her head rolled back, eyes fluttering closed. “Sarah. Sarah!” Growling, he slapped her face lightly. “Wake up, Sarah.” He ordered. He was surprised to find his heart beating faster. “If you’ve got brain damage, I’m throwing you to the mermaids.” Her eyes fluttered open again.

“Mer-maids?” The corners of her mouth stretched in an almost smile before her eyes closed again. It looked like he needed to step in. He reached out with his magic, hesitant at first – he had no idea what he was looking for, but if the island really cared about Sarah that much, maybe it would help him out. He closed his eyes, focusing. There. Something felt off, though he couldn’t say how. He prodded at it with the magic, and Sarah groaned. He pictured the off thing as a knot in his mind, then watched as it slowly untied. He could feel the island helping him, and he almost felt annoyed. It hadn’t given _him_ half so friendly a welcome. Still, when he opened his eyes he was oddly relieved to see Sarah squinting up at him suspiciously. Whatever it was, it had worked – she was back to normal. She tried to sit up, but he stuck a hand out.

“I wouldn’t yet.” He said flatly. Sarah stared up at him, reorienting herself. She had just been fighting with Lucian, hadn’t she? She grimaced. She had just been getting beaten by Lucian. Her body ached all over from the hits, and her head felt oddly fuzzy. She remembered a final hit to head, judging by where she was now it must have knocked her out. “I’ve got to say, you picked quite a way to get out of our engagement this evening.”

“Do I have a concussion?” Sarah asked with a groan. Pan scrunched his face in the look she had come to recognise as “I don’t understand your modern words”. She tried to explain. “It’s a…head thing. Where your brain is bad.” She cringed. Where was her ability to form coherent sentences? “It happens if you hit your head too hard, I think?”

“Well I healed _something_ in there.” Pan said airily, waving his hand.

“You were in my head?” Sarah demanded, trying to sit up again. Her body screamed at her to do no such thing, and she settled for glaring instead. “What else did you “heal” while you were in there? And how?”

Pan rolled his eyes. “Magic?” Sarah sighed. Right. Of course. Magical neuroscience, what else? “And no, I wasn’t in your head, exactly.” His eyes turned mischievous, and he smirked. “Why? Something in there you don’t want me to see?” Sarah scowled.

“Maybe I just don’t like the idea of a madman playing around with my brain.” She said tersely. “Not enough for you to just mess with my head, you had to go after the infrastructure as well?” She growled at him. “How do I know you didn’t drop a mind control spell or something in there while you were at it?”

Pan looked at her as though this was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. “If you were mind-controlled,” He asked derisively, “Do you really think I’d put up with your jabbering right now?” There was that. Still, Pan was nothing if not sneaky. Maybe this was a ruse. He’d make her think she had free-will, and then tonight he’d order her to walk off a cliff or something. Seeing she was still suspicious, Pan rolled his eyes. “Please. You’re not worth the magic it takes to control someone’s mind.” Sarah wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. “Besides, you’re so easy to manipulate I don’t even need the magic to do it.”

“I’m _what_?” Sarah demanded. “I am _not_ easy to manipulate, you arrogant little weasel!” This time, she overruled her body’s objections and leaned up on her forearms. It wasn’t fully upright, but it was a start. Pan looked at her with amused incredulity.

“A weasel?” He challenged. “I’m the immortal, all-powerful king of a magical island, and you call me a weasel?” Sarah didn’t answer, only glared back at him. “Well, just remember this, Lost Girl.” He leaned down close to her face, whispering darkly. “Weasels eat birds.” Sarah stiffened at his closeness. Being in Pan’s tent, on his bed even, was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. Scooting herself back from his face, she pushed her arms up till she was sitting fully upright. Her head swam when she did, vision browning out for a long moment. When it cleared, Pan was sitting beside her at a normal distance once more. “Having a little trouble there?” He asked innocently. She scowled.

“Whatever fresh hell you’ve got planned for tonight, I don’t want to face it lying down.” She grumbled. She took a deep breath, waiting for the pounding in her head to subside. She had a feeling standing up was going to suck. Pan barked a laugh.

“As much as I admire your,” He paused, searching for the right word. “Fighting spirit,” He decided with a smirk, “I don’t think you’re in much of a condition to be playing any games tonight.” He tilted his head in a condescending look. “Pity really. I had such _fun_ plans for us. But I’ll let you off the hook tonight – on one condition.” Sarah narrowed her eyes in suspicion as the boy’s smirk became a wicked grin. “You thank me properly for saving you.” Sarah’s eyes widened.

“Like hell!” She spat angrily. Pan arched a brow.

“Well if you want, I could always undo it – I’m sure Lucian can’t have gone too far.” The eyebrow twitched. “And you’re certainly much more pleasant when you think I’m an angel.” He made as if to stand.

“I what?” Sarah demanded, incredulous. “You, an angel?” Pan was at the entrance to his tent. He wouldn’t really call Lucian back to hit her again, would he? A silent war waged between her pride and her desire to avoid further blunt-force trauma. “Wait.” She called quietly. Pan turned back with a deep-set smirk. _Alright, maybe I should take the hits_ , she thought grumpily. If it would wipe the smirk off his face. _Don’t be stupid._ Her wiser mind told her. The two stared each other down for a long moment, Sarah’s glare into Pan’s calm amusement. “Fine.” She said at last, breaking away her stare. “Thanks.”

Pan raised a brow. “Is that what you call a thank you?” He crouched down beside her. “Going to have to do better than that, little bird.” Sarah’s eyes bore into her legs, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” She spoke through gritted teeth. “For saving me.” She flinched as his hand cupped around her chin, bringing her face around to look him in the eye. Her eyes flickered from his hand to his face as the rest of her seemed to freeze. He saw her ears draw back tensely, and he smiled. She really was so easy to frighten.

“Once more.” His eyes had caught her now, and she felt strangely unable to look away, even as much as glancing her eyes away from him. “With feeling.” Maybe she _was_ being mind controlled.

“Thank you,” She said softly. “For saving me…Peter.” Something foreign flashed in his eyes and he stared back at her in silence. She could feel her heart speed up as a warm flush crept over her face. Why was he looking at her like that? And why couldn’t she look away?

“You’re welcome.” His voice was low and smooth, the curling mist around a streetlight as darkness fell over the city. “Lost Girl.” He drew his hand away slowly, fingers tracing over the curve of her face. She looked away as quickly as she could. Pan chuckled darkly. “Get some sleep, Sarah.” He instructed. “We’ve got big plans for tomorrow, and I think you’ll want to be at your best.” Sarah began to push herself up. He frowned. “I said _sleep_.” He ordered. She looked at him askance.

“I know.” She told him, annoyed. “I’m going back to my tent.” A flash of pain flickered over her face. “Just…give me a minute.” Pan sighed in irritation.

“You’re sleeping here.” He explained, as though it were obvious and Sarah was being very stupid indeed. She leveled him with a look of disbelief. No. He wasn’t serious, was he? Her tent wasn’t that far. She shook her head.

“How am I supposed to sleep in the den of my worst enemy?” She huffed. He could see her struggling to stand up. With a wave of his hand, the struggling ceased and she fell back. He caught her lightly and shifted her down so her head rested against a pillow instead of a tent pole. She looked so peaceful when she slept.

“Like this.” He said quietly. There was an odd tone to his voice to match the odd feeling settling in his core.  Not wanting to think about what it could be, he swept out of his tent. He had business to attend to elsewhere, far from unsettling girls with odd connections to his island.


	33. Dreamer

Gentle music drifted around her in a cool and misty place. Back in the dream world, she could at last remember the last time she had been here. _The dreamer,_ she thought to herself, spinning idly through the blue-green haze. _Neverland told me it is made of dreams. Then…_ Could it possibly be? _Neverland, is it me?_ The mists brushed over her in a welcoming embrace. All at once, she felt a rush of hazy memories, wild adventures she had gone on in countless dreams over countless years. She remembered soaring over a magical island, dancing through its forests and diving in its jewel-blue seas. She had been to the island so many times before in her dreams. She had been to so many worlds in her dreams, saving kingdoms and rescuing princesses, playing at all the things a hero ought to do. The memories were clarifying, crystallising to moments that felt more real than her waking life ever had. But had they been? Everyone dreamed of great adventures and far-off places. Perhaps the island had been real, but what of all the other realms she had seen in her somnial journeys?

“Do you remember me?” Sarah twirled in the mists to see a familiar figure before her.

“Neverland!” She called, spinning to catch the figure in tight embrace. Dream or no, she could feel happy tears prick at her eyes as arms like the cool mist of the waterfall wrapped around her. “I remember. I remember so many wonderful things, but…” She hesitated. “Were they real? I thought they were only dreams.”

The gurgling stream of the island’s laughter flowed out around her. “Dreams may be as real as the pallet on which you sleep, Sarah. They are the blood of my forests and the bones of my rock.” The island blinked, and Sarah furrowed her brows in concern as their expression turned sad. “But I cannot make dreams of my own. And the dreams that feed me now are…” They paused. “Twisted.”

“Pan.” Sarah guessed softly. “The other dreamer. Is he hurting you?” She searched her old friend’s face with concern. They smiled, but the sadness still was evident in the swirling fog of their eyes.

“I do not feel pain as you do.” They brushed their hand over Sarah’s hair. “My poor girl. Your adventures here have been very hard, I know.” Sarah was quiet. They had been, but surely it was worth it to know, to finally know, that her dreams had been her truth all along. “Yet though I do not feel pain, still I hurt. He is changing me Sarah. He has been changing me for a very long time, far longer than we have known each other.” Sarah blinked, confused. If it had been going on so long, why now? “His dreams are powerful, and soon I will be nothing but dark jungles and harsh peaks. After that, very soon, I will die.” Tears welled in Sarah’s eyes as she clung to the island’s shifting form. “As will he.”

“What can I do?” Sarah asked, frantic. “How do I stop it? Pan would never let himself die, surely there is another way?”

“He believes there is.” The island told her darkly. “Yet the price he would pay would change me forever to something dark, twisted. I would be no more the island of dreams, but an island of death for once and for all.” Sarah stared at the island, eyes widened with fear. “To live, he would sacrifice an innocent child, full of true belief and brilliant dreams.” Sarah drew her hand over her mouth. No. Surely not even Pan would… “He searches for the boy even now. But you, Sarah. You too are a dreamer.”

“If,” Sarah began hesitantly. “If I sacrifice myself, you mean – you would live?”

“NO.” The island’s voice echoed around the mist. “You will not die for me, Sarah.” Their voice grew softer. “But I would ask you to dream for me.” She felt her heart prick up in excitement. All she had to do was dream? She would, of course. She would spin the most beautiful dream she could imagine, all for the dear island she had cherished unknowingly for so many years of childhood. She would make her heart’s home all it could ever wish to be, and at last, at last she would quell the longing that had followed her all her waking life. “There is…one more thing.” The island’s voice was bittersweet. “Though you will not die, there is a price.” Sarah’s face drooped with concern. She would pay it, whatever it was.

“What – ” Blinking, her eyes opened to a canvas sky. She tried to sit up, but gave up with a groan. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? Slowly, she recalled her ill-fated fight with Lucian the day before. Once again the feeling of something important left undone danced around the corners of her mind. It was driving her crazy. She had thought finding magic might make that feeling go away, but if anything, it felt even stronger here! She was so close, she was sure of it. She just needed to put the pieces together. The dreamer the pool had mentioned, the island recognising her. There was some piece missing, she just wasn’t sure what it was.

Commotion outside the tent drew her attention back to the present. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself up. Once she got moving it wasn’t so bad, though a number of flowering bruises complained if she moved in seemingly any direction. At least her head felt better. Her stomach growled to remind her she had fallen asleep – or been spelled asleep, she guessed – without eating first. She ducked out of the tent with a bowl of warm stew to see what was happening.

The Lost Boys were milling about in apparent preparations, gathering arrows and repairing weapons. She ate quietly as she watched them, not wanting to draw attention to herself after her embarrassing defeat yesterday. “Lost Girl!” Well, so much for that. Heads turned to look as the leader of the Lost Boys strode across camp to stand in front of her. She set her face as even as she could and stared ahead into the green of Pan’s tunic. “I hope you’re not getting into one of your moods again,” Pan said cheerily, “Because we’re playing a game this morning.” Sarah slid her eyes up to look at him with suspicion. He grinned. “A really fun game.”

Sarah’s mouth flattened to a line as she pondered what her fate might be this time. A quick glance at Pan’s eyes showed they glimmered with mischief today, not murder, so perhaps she wouldn’t be in for anything too terrible? Then again, there had never yet been a “game” that didn’t mean terrible things for her. And considering how her body felt this morning, she was certain she’d be at even more of a disadvantage than usual. “What…game?” She asked slowly.

“Capture the flag.” Pan told her innocently. Sarah blinked. That didn’t sound so bad. She had enjoyed playing capture the flag at camp when she was younger, and maybe this could be a chance to finally show the Lost Boys she belonged here just as much as they did.

“What are the teams?” She questioned, more interested now that the game was one she knew – and enjoyed, even! Pan tilted his head in a look of confusion.

“Teams?” He asked. “Didn’t I mention?” He leaned in close to her face. “You’re the flag.” Sarah surprised him by laughing. You couldn’t have a human flag. That was ridiculous.

“You’re-you’re not serious.” She chortled. Pan’s eyes narrowed as a shadow fell over his face. He didn’t appreciate being laughed at. Her laughter tapered off. “You are.” Her breakfast vanished as she tossed her hand in the air, indignant. “That’s not capture the flag, that’s – that’s the same “game” you played last time! Everyone chasing after me while I run around trying not to get murdered!” Pan quirked his brow.

“It’s not the same at all.” He told her airily. “Before they just had to bring you back to camp. Now they’ll have to fight each other for you.” Sarah growled. It didn’t sound any different to her, except that it would probably take longer. Not to mention, there was a very good chance she might get caught in the cross fire.

“Can I at least get a weapon this time?” She demanded. It was Pan’s turn to laugh.

“What would you need a weapon for? You’re the _flag_.” He shook his head at her foolishness. Couldn’t she understand even this basic, simple game?

“Which means the only way to win is if I capture myself.” She said shortly. “And by that, I mean if no one else captures me.” Pan raised his eyebrows. There was no chance of that happening, but it might be interesting to watch her try. He swallowed a snicker. Especially since from the looks of things just standing up was painful.

“Fine.” He said at last, with a calculated disinterest. “You can have a weapon. Take your pick, I know you’re terrible with all of them.” Sarah bristled. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you come back with even more bruises. The Lost Boys don’t exactly play gentle.” Sarah narrowed her eyes.

“I remember that.” She said acerbically. “Thanks.” Now the only question was, what weapon should she pick? Much as she hated it, Pan was right that she was terrible at most of the Lost Boys’ preferred tools of combat. Her aim was terrible, and yesterday had demonstrated more than clearly that she was nowhere near matching the boys with a sword – or sword-like object, for that matter. A dagger or knife, maybe? She thought about the height difference between her and many of the boys. No, unless she was matched against one of the younger ones, she’d be done before she ever got close enough to use it. What did that leave? _A club._ Her brain suggested. It would give her reach at least, though she would hate for anyone to think she were copying Felix. And of course, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to wield such a weapon successfully. So something like a club, but not a club. “A staff!” She exclaimed at last, excited to have come on something that might work. Seeing Pan’s raised eyebrows, she cleared her throat. “A staff.” She repeated, more sedately this time.

“Do you even know how to use one?” Pan asked condescendingly. Sarah looked away. Technically no, she did not. But it couldn’t be any worse than her proficiency with the other weapons, right? And at least she wouldn’t stab herself with it while running. Pan closed his eyes, and in a moment a long, straight pole appeared in his hands, about half the diameter of her wrist. He handed it to her with a smirk. “Try not to trip.” 

Sarah snatched it harshly away from him. She’d show him. Hopefully. “When does the game start?” She asked primly. Pan grinned, and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Let’s just say you’d better start running.” She didn’t need to be told twice. Holding the quarter staff in line with her arm, she took off into the jungle. “We’ll give you a chance to hide!” She heard Pan call after her, and then, “Boys!” The boys whooped and howled. “Let’s play.”


	34. Flag: Phase I

To her credit, she only tripped over the staff a few times before she got the trick of running with it down. As she crashed through the jungle, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and the hordes of boys soon to chase after her, she wracked her brain for places she might hide. Her brilliant beach plan last time had been a mistake. She thought about the pool, but Felix would almost certainly know to look for her there. Lungs burning, she slowed. No, she needed somewhere hard to get to, but not so hard she couldn’t get there herself.

A slow grin crept over her face, and she turned in the direction of the ledge where Peter had – where she been with Pan, yesterday. She was thankful her sense of direction on the island was improving, in no small part thanks to her compass. Though it pointed only towards camp, she could remember at least the general direction of things with respect to her marker point. Her run soon switched to a jog, and then to a fast walk punctuated with heaving breaths. Her sense of direction might have been improving, but her stamina certainly wasn’t. She was starting to regret her “round is a shape” philosophy, and it didn’t help that her limbs still felt sore from the walloping she’d received yesterday.

She alternated speed-walking with short bursts of running towards what she hoped was her destination, though as time passed and she heard no howling boys behind her, she grew antsy. Was she actually being given a real head start, or were they up to something? _Please be the first,_ she pleaded silently. As she neared the vine-covered ledge, she smiled. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, and when she opened them the vines had reshaped themselves into a hanging ladder. Swallowing a squeak of excitement – she was getting good at this! – she raced up the side of the ledge. She then pulled the vine-ladder up after her, not wanting anyone to follow her up. Once at the top, she looked out. She was a pretty high distance up, it seemed unlikely the boys would be able to spot her from the ground. Still, it was better safe than sorry. She looked around her for something to serve as cover.

When her eyes brushed over the side of the peak where Pan had held her the day before, she flushed. Tearing her eyes resolutely away from it, she turned her attention to the low scrub at its base. _That ought to do nicely_ , she told herself. Particularly with her hood up, she figured she could hide out there until the game was over and no one would be the wiser. Lying flat on her stomach, she flicked up her hood and shimmied between the scrub and the peak side. Her body complained at this heavy-contact treatment, but she figured it was a small price if she could remain undetected – and unfought – for the remainder of the game. Just in case her first plan went awry, she lay the staff next to her.   _I didn’t ask how long the game lasted,_ she thought idly. Hopefully, that wouldn’t prove to be a mistake.

She had just finished settling her staff when the sounds of howling Lost Boys reached her ears. They sounded far off, and she grinned. _Good luck finding me,_ she crowed to herself. For once, she was going to beat them, and show them all she was more than they expected. “Clever, Lost Girl.” A disinterested voice interrupted her silent celebrations. She froze, wrapping her hand around the staff. She stayed down in case it was a ruse, a trick to lure her out of hiding. “Don’t worry,” Pan’s voice floated down to her. “I’m not playing. I’m just here to referee.”

Swallowing a growl, she turned her eyes up. Pan was about a foot from her hiding place, looking smugly down at her. “How did you find me?” She hissed. Pan shrugged.

“I know where everyone is on this island.” She stared at him a long moment, trying to determine if he was bluffing. He wasn’t actually omniscient, was he? He smirked.

“What’s the point of this game if you know where everyone is already?” Sarah grumbled. It hardly seemed fair, not that that should surprise her. As her companion was so fond of saying, there were no rules on Neverland. “And can you at least crouch down or something? You’re blowing my cover.”

Pan snorted, but he obliged. Sarah soon realised her mistake, as his face was now much closer to hers. She scooched back further into the scrub. “I already told you, I’m not playing. It doesn’t matter if I know where you are.” He looked around. “Excellent choice, by the way. What made you think of it?” He leaned down closer to her, though thankfully the dry brush provided her with some shelter. “Remembering a treasured memory perhaps?”

Her face contorted in exaggerated disgust. “You are completely deranged.” She told him harshly. He barked a laugh, and she winced as it echoed against the stones. If he didn’t leave soon, she’d be found out. “Why are you here,” she demanded, “And what do I have to do to get you to leave?” Pan blinked innocently.

“All you have to do is ask nicely.” He told her sweetly. She scowled. The two stared at each other for a long moment before Sarah at last gave in.

“Fine.” She huffed. He face twisted into a grimace, the corners of her mouth pulled up in a grim pastiche of positivity. “Will you please go away?” Her could hear her teeth grinding against each other as he spoke. Pan smirked.

“Was that so hard?” He asked lightly. He stood, and Sarah watched warily as he walked to the edge of the ledge. “Oh.” He turned lazily, looking down at her hiding spot. What was it now? “I said _nicely._ ” He turned back and cupped his hands over his mouth. No, what was he doing? “FELIX!” His voice echoed over the canopy. “Over here!” He turned over his shoulder to meet Sarah’s glare with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “ _Try_ to follow directions next time,” his tone was mockingly disappointed, and it took far more willpower than she cared to admit to keep from hurling her staff at his arrogant face. In the next moment, he had vanished into red smoke.

 _Alright Sarah._ She told herself. _They only heard his voice, they won’t see you. And how would they get up here even if they could? Everything’s going to be fine._ Though her heartbeat was accelerating, she tried to breathe as slowly and as quietly as she could. Even if they made it onto the ledge, maybe they wouldn’t see her. And if they didn’t see her, maybe they’d assume she’d run away. They couldn’t be that close, could they? She heard the chink of stone. Or maybe they could. “Come on out, little bird.” A familiar voice called. It came from below, so she knew the blonde giant couldn’t see her yet. He must still be scaling the ledge, though how she could only guess. She heard a scuffle as he crawled onto the ledge, followed by the scuffling of at least two other bodies. Sneaking her eyes over, she winced as Felix caught her eye. The jig was up.

He grinned as she stood, holding her staff in front of her protectively. “Don’t try and do this the hard way.” He simpered. A heavy weight roiled in her stomach as she noticed the two other boys with him were Nibs – and Lucian. “We all know you can’t take even one of us in a fight.” Sarah bit down the fear rising up in her throat. Nibs and Felix wouldn’t kill her at least, she was pretty sure. Lucian was another story. She tightened her grip around the staff.

“I can still try.” She said grimly. Nibs laughed, though not in an unfriendly way. She flicked her eyes over to glare at him. “You want to go first?” She challenged. Nibs furrowed his brows.

“I’m not going to fight you, Sarah.” He deadpanned. “ _I_ don’t fight people I know have no chance of winning.” If Lucian heard the aspersion in Nibs’ tone, he didn’t let it show on his face. His expression looked stonier than it had been, as though he had blocked his feelings behind a wall. She didn’t like it. At least before his eyes had told her where she stood with him. Now there was no telling, though she could certainly guess.

Felix took a step forward. She planted her feet more firmly, not wanting to fall prey to another tackle like the last time they’d fought. He swung his club idly off his shoulder. Sarah looked at it with trepidation. She wasn’t sure her thin staff would stand up to it, but there was only one way to find out. Seizing the initiative, she swung the staff out and behind the taller boy’s legs, hoping to knock him off balance. He blocked it deftly, and she quickly brought it back up to block against the incoming swing. _He’s going easy on me,_ she realised, when his swings didn’t jar against her bones the way Lucian’s had. _And worse, he thinks he’s going to win this fight anyway._ She pushed back with the staff, angling it underneath the club before ramming the end hard into his chest. Maybe there was an advantage to being shorter than him after all.

Felix staggered back in surprise, and Sarah grinned. She’d gotten in a hit! Her victory was short lived, as Felix swung his club with renewed vigour. Her trick had worked once, but unfortunately for her Felix was anything but stupid. When she tried it a second time he was wise to her and forced the club down to push her back. “You’re getting better, little bird.” He told her lazily. Sarah, panting, only glowered. He could at least have the decency to break a sweat. “But not good enough.” The next thing Sarah knew she was on the ground, legs knocked out from under her by the blur of Felix’s club. She scrambled to get back up but was stopped by the same club hovering over her face. “Flag to Team Felix.” He drawled. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

“Flag to Team Felix.” She acknowledged, eyes cast off to the side. Nibs helped her back to her feet, though she scowled the whole way up. “Now what. You’re not going to carry me back like a deer carcass again, are you?” Nibs shook his head seriously.

“Now we protect you from the enemy.” He told her resolutely. He looked to the other two boys. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. None of the others will get through us.” Sarah plopped onto a nearby stone, clearly sulking.

“Great.” She threw a pebble at the ground in front of her. “Just what I wanted.” Unfortunately, Nibs was correct. She was unlikely to change hands from this group based on the battles between the boys alone. All the same, if she was going to lose this game anyway, she’d rather it not be to Felix and Lucian. No, she had to get away from them somehow. She glanced furtively around the ledge. The only question was, how?

Ever observant, Felix noticed her wandering eyes. “Not thinking about running away, are you little bird?” He drawled smoothly. She narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked. “It’s a long way down the side.” Something hovered implied in his voice, but she couldn’t quite work out what it was.

“I got up here, didn’t I?” She asked shortly. A mischievous glimmer entered Felix’s eye.

“I’ll tell you what, Lost Girl.” He began cheerily. “We’ll let you go for now – ” Nibs opened his mouth the protest. “But only if you leave by the rope.” Sarah felt a prickle up her spine as he gestured at the rope stretched across the chasms. Pan had intended to frighten her with it yesterday, until other…events had derailed him. She hadn’t been able to cross it even after he’d left. But how did Felix know that? She stood abruptly, closing the distance between them so she could whisper without the other boys hearing.

“He told you, didn’t he?” She demanded, her voice pitched low and quiet. Felix gazed down at her balefully. She took his silence as an admission of guilt. Pan wasn’t satisfied with lording her fear of heights over her himself, he had to let Felix in on it as well? It probably shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. After all, he’d listed Cody and Nibs’ fears off to her like a grocery list that day at the pond. Still, the idea that Felix knew more about her fears than she knew about his rankled. _And if they’re talking about you,_ her mind asked, _just how much does he know?_  Sarah narrowed her eyes further. “What else did he tell you?” She hissed. Felix whistled long and low.

“Is this the angry Sarah I’ve heard so much about?” He asked wryly. Nibs, watching the altercation from a short distance away, shook his head. Unlike Felix, he’d been in camp when she tried to stab their leader. “Got to say, I’m not impressed.”

“What did he tell you?” Sarah repeated, ignoring his jibe. _We aren’t going to snap today,_ she told herself. _And certainly not over Felix._ She had noticed a trend with Pan’s…reactions, to her outbursts, and it wasn’t a trend she wanted to follow. Granted, he wasn’t here at the moment, but the thoughts and feelings that coursed through her when her anger took over were frightening enough in their own right to make her want to keep her cool.

Felix lifted his eyebrows. “That’s for me to know.” He told her coolly. She growled. “You going over or not?” Slowly, she turned her head to look at the rope. The longer she looked at it, the farther up the ledge seemed to be and the wider the chasm grew in her mind. Surely her arms would give out before she crossed it. Her stomach roiled. She couldn’t do it yesterday, there was no way she could do it today.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Lucian watching her. His expression was even as before, but something in his eye glimmered darkly. _Victory._ She thought grimly. _He knows I can’t do it._ She took a step away from Felix and towards the ledge. She’d hung over a cliff to beat Pan. At least if she fell from the rope the trees might slow her fall. She’d break a couple of bones, but she probably wouldn’t die. She bit her lip. Then again, was it really worth breaking bones just to salvage her pride? She didn’t really care what these eternal children thought of her, did she? She took another step towards the rope, feeling almost compelled. _Yes._ She sighed to herself. _Yes, I do care._ She’d told herself this morning that she’d show them she was more than they expected, and it was time she started to act like it. Slowly, she sat down by the edge of the rope, and wrapped her hands around it. Her palms were unhelpfully sweaty. She tried not to think about what would happen if she lost her grip halfway across.

“Don’t make things hard for yourself.” Felix told her. “Be a good little flag and stay right here.” He sounded far away. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to will herself off the ledge. She was holding the rope, she’d be fine. _Keep telling yourself that._ It would be nice if her own mind believed in her at least. Clinging to the rough fibres as to a life raft at sea, she eased herself off the ledge, swallowing a yelp as she felt the rope sag with her weight. Blindly, she let go with one hand and reached forward, gripping forward along the rope. She hadn’t gotten more than a few feet when her arms started to shake. “Not too late to give up!” Felix called. She wished he didn’t sound so close, but she couldn’t risk opening her eyes to see her progress. Heights always sucked the strength out of her limbs, and the last thing she needed right now was for her arms to give out. Biting down on her tongue, she continued her slow progress.

It would have been easier if every time she almost missed the rope, or her hand slipped in adjusting, she hadn’t heard Felix’s laughter behind her. _Just keep going._ She told herself, trying to fight down a rising wave of panic. _Almost there._ She had no idea if she was or not, but with her arms quavering with the effort of pulling herself across, she hoped for the sake of her skeleton that she was. When her knee collided with rock, she almost cried – with joy or pain, who could say. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She had made it. The only problem now was how to get onto the ledge. She struggled to pull her leg up and over the top, a difficult feat when every motion set the rope to swinging. “Didn’t think this one through, did you?” Felix’s voice echoed across to her aggravated ears. She grit her teeth, resolving to ignore him.

Finally, with a shout of triumph, she got her leg over the ledge. Next she reached up a hand, and pushed with all her might to bring herself up and over to safety. It took far longer than she liked, and for a few panicked moments she was worried she wouldn’t make it over at all, hurtling to the ground instead. She rested a few moments on the sweet, gloriously solid earth before standing shakily. The ledge here was blended with the jungle, and it looked as though there might be a path through the denser foliage down to the base of the rocks. She turned to look at the ledge she had just come from, sticking her chin in the air defiantly as she stared down the trio’s blonde leader. She cupped shaky hands over her mouth. “Better luck next time, boys!” She called across. She had done it! If she had any energy left, she would have felt like dancing and cheering.

A rustling in the trees caught her ear. “Did someone say luck? Because it looks like it’s our lucky day.” Swallowing a scream of frustration, Sarah turned slowly to see Kasim and two other boys creep from the trees. The elated fire of conquering the chasm snuffed out. Their lucky day it might have been, because it certainly wasn’t hers.


	35. Flag: Phase II

Her eyes flickered between Kasim and his two companions, boys she recognised from camp but couldn’t put names to. The one on the left looked young, maybe around thirteen with sandy curls and bright green eyes. In another setting, one in which he was not holding a long staff topped by sharp-pronged antlers, she might have described his dark, youth-rounded face as angelic. The boy on the right looked more menacing, tall and lanky with angular features split by the shadow of his bowstring. Slowly, Sarah raised her hands. They trembled some, exhausted from the effort of pulling herself across the chasm. Kasim grinned, his spear held staunchly at his side. “Giving up so quick, Sarah?” He asked lightly. Her eyes flickered to the arrow held taut against his companion’s bow. His grin widened. “Smart move.”

The bow lowered as the younger boy stepped forward, reaching for a hank of rope at his belt. Likely the archer didn’t want to risk hurting his teammate, but Sarah saw an opportunity. She put her hands together in front of her as if waiting to be tied up. When her would-be captor moved to wrap the rope around them, she swung up, catching him by surprise with a blow to the face followed quickly with her arms wrapping over him to keep him in front of her.  The boy struggled against her grip, and she worried she wouldn’t be able to restrain him very long. Kasim’s grin was gone, his spear leveled menacingly as he tried to work out how best to get at Sarah without injuring his teammate. She released one arm for a moment to grab at the knife on her pendant, tearing at the sheath with her teeth and pressing the tiny blade to his throat. His struggling ceased.

“What are you going to do with that tiny thing?” Bow-boy sneered. Kasim narrowed his eyes.

“You want us to believe you’d really hurt Zack?” His voice was threatening, a warning which implied he believed she very well might. Sarah had to admit, it would be more difficult to do so now that he had a name. But she didn’t need to really hurt him- just make his teammates believe she would long enough to put some space between her and them. She narrowed her eyes over Zack’s shoulder.

“Who knows what I’ll do.” She bluffed. “I’m tired and cranky, and I’m not feeling particularly forgiving at the moment.” Acting was so much easier when the words happened to be true. _This is a bluff._ She reminded herself. _You are not actually going to hurt this kid._ In the back of her mind, she could have sworn something shifted and laughed. _Keep telling yourself that_. Gritting her teeth, she edged sideways, dragging her unlucky captive along with her. She kicked his dropped weapon as she passed, and it skittered to the very edge of the ledge. Kasim stepped forward, and she pressed the knife’s small point more firmly to Zack’s throat. He winced, and Kasim stepped back. Sarah’s eyes flashed. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but this was a good feeling. “I’ll be seeing you all later.” She told them coolly. A very good feeling.

She edged towards the trees, giving the other two Lost Boys a wide berth just in case they decided to call her bluff. She edged backwards into the tree line. They hadn’t gone far when she realised the ground here all seemed just as flat as at the ledge, no good to her if she wanted to get off of it. “Which way is down?” She asked her captive quietly. He didn’t respond, and she sighed heavily. “The sooner I get off this ledge, the sooner you and I can part ways. Which way is down?” He growled. With renewed force he pushed against her confining arms and broke free, the knife leaving a trail of red across his throat. Sarah stared at the long cut a moment in shock – _she_ had done that – before she remembered that she wasn’t the predator here. With a yelp, she hurled herself away. Zack’s hand clutched at her hood, choking and restraining her. She threw it off behind her as she heard the other’s heavy footsteps.

Her pathfinding then was blind, smacking at leaves and vines before her as she urged her legs to go faster. An arrow whizzed past her head, far too close to be comfortable. _Pride or death, Sarah!_ Her mind scolded. Winning a game wasn’t worth getting shot at, was it? Then again, maybe the arrows were just as much a bluff as her threatening Zack had been. Pan might be insane, but the Lost Boys probably weren’t, right? Kasim had taught her how to throw knives, after all. She threw herself through a large leafy bush, slamming into something hard on the other side.

“Sarah!” The cheerful voice proved that something hard to be Xavier. “Isn’t this just like old times?” He laughed, catching her arm. She growled in response. Another arrow arced through the leaves over their shoulders. “Looks like we’ve got friends.” Xavier announced, eyes glimmering. “Arthur!” With a rough push she soon found herself in Arthur’s strong grip.

“Sorry Sarah.” He didn’t sound apologetic. “Name of the game.” She scowled and watched as Xavier pulled a sword from his belt. A rustle nearby drew her eyes to Rasheed, armed with a staff much thicker and taller than hers had been. It hardly seemed fair, considering he was shorter than her. Kasim and Zack burst through the leaves a few moments later, stopping short at the scene before them. “Sorry Kasim.” Arthur called. “The flag’s in our court now.” Sarah struggled against him, but with little success. This was probably the best group to lose to, if she had to lose. _But I don’t want to lose at all._ She thought stubbornly.

“Not for long.” Staffs collided as spear met sword, and Arthur edged backwards with Sarah in arms. He knew the teams were of three, and when their third showed up, the two able to fight would be outnumbered.

“If you let me go, I could help you.” Sarah offered. Arthur snorted.

“Sarah, do you think I don’t know a trick when I hear one? I’m not as dumb as Cody.” Sarah sighed. It had been a long shot, but she figured it was worth a try. Although…

“Think about it.” Sarah began. The wheels in her brain were spinning, thinking of something that might convince Arthur to let her go. “Of all the groups of Lost Boys running around the island, yours is the safest for me to be in. I know you guys won’t kill me, at least, and prior to this moment I almost considered you and Xavier as friends.” There was a long pause.

“Not Rasheed?” She could hear the smile in his voice. She scoffed.

“We both know Rasheed thinks I’m miles beneath him.” She said primly. She added under her breath, “Little snot.” She could feel Arthur’s quiet laugh behind her. “I’m just saying, if you think about it, why wouldn’t I want to end up with you guys at the end of the game?” He didn’t get a chance to respond before a warning shot flew by his ear. He turned to see Kasim’s last teammate nocking another arrow. “I’ll distract him and you take him out?” Sarah needled one last time. Arthur sighed.

“Fine.” He said quietly. “But if you run off before the fight’s over, I swear I’ll – ” He paused. “I’ll sic Xavier on you.” He said at last. Truth be told, Arthur wasn’t much of one for fighting himself. He could certainly do it, but he didn’t enjoy it as much as his lover did, bouncing from fight to fight with a boundless enthusiasm. Sarah scowled, but nodded her agreement. At least once the fight was over, there’d be fewer of the boys to contend with. She darted towards bow-boy, who turned to aim at her. Arthur barreled into him a moment later, knocking the bow from his hands. Growling, the two wrestled on the ground.

Sarah glanced around. All of the boys were fighting each other, this was a perfect chance. If only she hadn’t promised Arthur. _All’s fair in love and war,_ she argued. _When will I get a chance like this again?_ Arthur’s eyes flashed to hers before returning to his opponent, and she sighed. _I’m going to regret this._ She jumped down to assist Arthur, and between the two of them the boy was soon overpowered. Arthur tied him snugly with the boy’s own rope, then left him to join Xavier and Rasheed. With three against two, the fight was over quickly. “The flag isn’t supposed to help any one team.” Zack complained as Xavier wrapped rope around his hands.

“Says who?” Xavier retorted. “I don’t remember there being any rules against it. It’s not our fault Sarah likes us best, isn’t that right?” He looked up at Sarah, who was several feet now from the group. She smiled innocently, and his eyes narrowed. “Sarah?” Sarah bolted.

“Fight’s over!” She called over her shoulder. She hadn’t said anything about sticking around after that. Pulling the last knots over the other team’s wrists tight, her nearly-friends stood quickly to hurry after her, their need to pick up weapons giving her precious extra time. When she heard the thunk of an arrow some distance behind her, she grinned. It seemed another group had caught up with the boys, and something told her they might be kept busy for a while. Stifling a laugh, she plunged forward. Maybe she had a chance at this after all.

In time of course, her breathing grew ragged and she found herself forced to slow her pace to a walk. _Alright, time to think._ She told herself. She had lost her weapon, and at least three groups knew the direction she’d traveled in. She needed to find somewhere else to hide, some place clever. _Why not in plain sight?_ Her plan to hide in camp during the last game had been averted, but there was no reason it might not work now. She checked the direction of her compass and turned, trying her best to move silently lest she be discovered.

Miraculously, she made it to the camp with no trouble. Smiling to herself, she crept towards her tent. No, wait – if they did think to check camp, that would be the first place they looked, surely. Her eyes brushed the clearing, falling on Pan’s tent. Did she dare? They certainly wouldn’t look there, but…what if he came back? And aside from that, did she really want to spend any more time than she already had in there? Cautiously, heart pounding, she slunk to the tent. She listened a moment- she couldn’t hear anything inside. This was crazy. Was she really going to do this? The sounds of Lost Boys howling in the woods made up her mind. Taking a deep breath, she slipped inside the boy king’s tent.


	36. Earned

Her relief on finding it unoccupied was boundless. She had no idea what she would have said if she’d found herself face to face with the tent’s owner, but she knew it would have been an uncomfortable conversation. Wanting to be as hidden as possible, she dug her way under Pan’s pallet so the furs now lay on top of her. If any of the boys _were_ bold enough to look in Pan’s tent, all they would see was an abnormally thick pallet. She doubted any of them would know what his pallet looked like well enough to tell the difference. With a quiet sigh of relief, she settled in for the long haul. So long as Pan didn’t come back – and she refused to think about what might happen if he did – all she had to do now was wait, and the game was as good as hers. She smiled to herself.

She was less pleased with herself as she discovered that passing hours under a large pile of fur and leaves was a hot, miserable, boring business. Beads of sweat ran across her forehead and her clothes clung to her whenever she shifted. She tried her best not to fidget. What if she were to bump the side of the tent while a Lost Boy was near? The game would be up and all her time in this dirt-bottomed sauna would have been for nothing. The more time passed, the grouchier she grew. Just how long would this game go on? Even worse, she was getting hungry. All her running and climbing this morning had worked up an appetite that even the oppressive damp heat of her tiny cave couldn’t suppress, but she worried that eating something now would make too much noise or movement. At long, long last she heard a horn echo out over the island. The sound was low and stirring, and she soon heard the Lost Boys flowing into camp. Was this the end? Had she really done it?

“Did none of you figure it out?” Her ears twitched as Pan’s smooth voice filled the clearing. “Got to say, Boys, I’m disappointed. Especially you, Lucian – I wouldn’t have thought you’d let her get the best of you.” There was a long pause. “You can come out now, Sarah.” Panic welled up for the briefest of moments before she remembered that somehow, he knew where everyone was on the island. She sighed with relief. Did that mean he didn’t care if she was in his tent? “I said, you can come out.” She moved to uncover herself from the pallet, then stopped. He wasn’t speaking in her direction. He was speaking in the direction of her tent. _So he doesn’t know_ exactly _where everyone is_. She noted. That was a useful tidbit. Her heart began to beat faster as she realised that if he assumed she was in her own tent, he didn’t know she was in his – but he would, very soon. And there was nothing she could do. She heard the rustling of canvas from far off, then rapid footsteps back to the center of camp.

“Search the camp.” Pan ordered brusquely. “It appears our little bird needs to be flushed out.” Sarah weighed her options quickly. If she moved now, however Pan reacted would be in front of everyone. If she stayed where she was, the two would be alone. She wasn’t sure which would be worse. In the end, her decision was made for her when Pan threw aside the flaps of his tent. Her heart raced as she heard them flutter behind him. “And just what do we have here?” Pan’s voice was quiet. Sarah’s breath caught in her throat, and for a few wild moments she hoped desperately that somehow, he wouldn’t see her shape under his pallet and she wouldn’t have to face his quiet anger.

She yelped as her hiding place flew off of her. Cooler air rushed in around her, and she breathed deeply of the cool, dry air. Then, slowly, she moved into a crouch, bringing her eyes up to look at Pan. He did _not_ look pleased. “I win?” Sarah said timidly. His eyes bore into her, and she forced her eyes down so she would not have to see the cold, dark thing which swirled in his eyes. She was in for it now. _Was a game really worth it, Sarah?_ Right at the moment, she was leaning towards no. After several quiet minutes, she risked looking up again. Pan’s eyes narrowed.

“You win.” His voice was silk over steel. The shudder that ran through her felt like anything but victory. Carefully, she reached for the overturned pallet, putting the layers back in some semblance of order. All the while, she watched Pan from one corner of her eye, waiting for the moment the adder would strike. She stood stiffly. Pan took a step towards her. She tensed, hand reaching for the tiny knife around her neck. “You’re somewhere that doesn’t belong to you.” Pan told her quietly. She gave a short, rigid nod. Her hand closed around the knife, but she felt helplessly frozen as the boy king reached a hand out, tucking a stray bit of hair away from her face. She flinched at the contact. “Even worse, you’re somewhere that belongs to me.” He let his hand trail down the side of her neck. She wished her hood were not lying somewhere in the jungle instead of wrapped protectively around her neck. Her breath hitched.

The trailing hand closed around her neck, and suddenly it was very hard to breathe. She sputtered, eyes flying up to see the dark fire of rage whirling in Pan’s eyes. The corner of his mouth twisted upwards in a cruel half-grin as she brought her hands up to claw at his. She could still breathe, but just barely. “P-Peter.” She gasped. He tilted his head, peering at her curiously. In desperation, she drove the point of her tiny blade into his wrist. Not far, but far enough that the sharp pain made him let go. She sucked the air in greedily when he released her, but only a moment later her blade sliced across her hand, ripped from her neck and her grasp by Pan’s bloody hand.

“That wasn’t very smart, Sarah.” He whispered. The knife on its broken cord dangled from his hand, and he looked from her, to the sticky blade, to her again. She stared back at him with eyes wide, terrified of what her next few moments might look like. She desperately hoped they wouldn’t be her last. Her eyes snaked towards the tent entrance. Would her odds be better or worse out there, surrounded by Pan’s loyal Lost Boys? She wouldn’t get to decide. In a moment he was behind her, one arm trapping hers around her waist while the other held the point of her own small knife against the hollow of her throat.

“Do you think you’ll win _this_ game?” His breath tickled her ear, and she bit her tongue to keep from shuddering. It was harder to hide her breathing, shallow and rapid, or her racing heart when he was this close, wrapped around her in the deadly embrace of a pit viper. No. No, she didn’t think she would win this game. But she had to try.

“You,” Her first attempt came out thin and reedy. She tried again. “You never said it was out of bounds.” His grip tightened around her, and she winced to discover yesterday’s bruises were not over and done with yet. “There are no rules on Neverland.” She tried. Tears were _not_ pricking at her eyes. Crying wouldn’t do her a bit of good here, so she wasn’t going to do it. She scrunched her eyes tightly shut and opened them again, banishing the fearful drops before they could fall. Pan’s arm fell from around her, though the knife stayed where it was. Pan stepped out in front of her, rotating the point against her skin as he circled. The anger in his eyes was replaced now with cold calculation.

“No rules at all, Sarah?” He asked lightly. She drew her eyes away from him.

“Except,” She gulped. “Except the one, of course.” Pan puffed a half-laugh through his nostrils. The knife at last came away from her throat, and she breathed a shuddery sigh of relief.

“I suppose I can’t fault you for a clever victory.” Sarah stared at him, face contorted in confusion. His tone now was so light, his face indifferent, as though he hadn’t just strangled her or held her at knifepoint. The shadows had receded from his eyes, but she was wary of how quickly they might spring back up. He smirked at her disbelieving expression. “Well Lost Girl,” She jumped as he clapped her on the shoulder. “I think you have a victory to celebrate.” She turned to look at him, blinking. Slowly, she nodded, and tried to step away. His hand kept her in place and his voice dropped low and quiet. “But in future, I’d remember if I were you. I don’t like others encroaching on what’s mine.”

When Sarah nodded stiffly, he pushed her forward, guiding her out to the center of camp. “Boys!” He called out. His pack emerged from searching their own tents and shelters. They shuffled in around the pair, whispering. They could still see Sarah’s fear in the tension of her body and the set of her face. Their leader shook his head in disappointment. “Today I asked you to play capture the flag. A riveting, exciting game ripe with opportunity for daring exploits and wild adventures. And who won?” He glanced around the circle. Most of the boys looked away. “The flag.” Sarah kept her eyes forward, trying not to look at any of the Lost Boys. She had wanted to prove she could be one of them, but the way Pan was speaking she had a feeling her victory would do nothing but stir up resentment. “Very sloppy. I expect better.” This would not end well, she was sure of it.

“So tomorrow, we’ll be playing again. With a few…” Pan paused, smirking. “Moderations. All of you will be a flag. And all of you will be your own team.” Sarah felt a growing sense of dread rise up in her. “Whoever captures the most flags, wins. As for the losers…well. We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” The boys broke out in quiet murmurs. “As you were, boys.” He glanced over at her, a malicious gleam in his eye. “Lost Girl.”

He left her standing in the middle of the group. Though she didn’t dare to look at them, she was sure unfriendly eyes were fixing on her. Slowly, the group began to disperse. Someone jostled her as they passed, she turned to see Zack looking up at her menacingly. “We’ll see who wins tomorrow.” He glowered. Sarah opened her mouth to say something – she was sorry, after all, that she’d cut him – but he brushed past her before she could speak.

The next contact was not a jostle, but a familiar arm slung over her shoulder in comradery. “How’s it feel, Lost Girl?” Xavier asked cheerfully.  Sarah looked at him askance.

“What?” She asked dryly. “Pan painting a target on my back? Feels great. Wonderful. Top of the world.” Xavier moved his arm to knock her over the head.

“ _Winning_.” He clarified. “Man, you should have seen Arthur’s face when you ran off – “

“It was nothing compared to yours, I’m sure.” Arthur cut him off smoothly. Sarah glanced up at him sheepishly, and Arthur laughed. “You waited till the end of the fight.” He acknowledged, shaking his head. “I didn’t really think you’d make it to the end though. We got caught up with Loto’s group for a while, but we were sure Felix and company would find you if no one else did. He and Nibs are both champion trackers.” Sarah shrugged, not wanting to tell him that they had found her first and let her go. Or Felix had, at least, and Nibs and Lucian didn’t question his authority.

When she glanced to the side, she met Rasheed’s eyes watching her coolly. “Perhaps you are not so stupid as I thought.” He said with a sniff. Sarah scowled. If her body didn’t ache so much she’d have a mind to wrestle the little snot to the ground, no matter what age he appeared to be. “But I doubt such a trick will work two days in a row.” Sarah frowned. He was probably right, much as she hated to admit it. She would have to think of something else for tomorrow if she didn’t want to end up as the first flag captured and land herself back at the bottom of the heap.

Xavier released her, moving instead to put Rasheed, over protests, in a friendly headlock. “Let’s not worry about that tonight.” He declared, releasing the smaller boy when teeth sunk into his arm. The smile never left his face, and Sarah began to wonder if all the inhabitants of Neverland were mad, not just Pan. “Tonight, we celebrate! Come on, before the best fire pit gets taken.” Sarah shot Arthur a questioning glance.

“They’re all the same, yes.” He told her quietly. “Logs around a fire. Don’t tell Xavier.” Sarah snorted, but followed after their exuberant freight-train of a friend as he happily recounted the battles they’d faced that day. Tomorrow would bring a whole host of new problems, she knew. But for tonight, just tonight, perhaps she could appreciate her well-earned victory.


	37. Off

“Come on, Sarah.” Xavier needled. “Tell us your side of the story.” The four sat around one of the many fires burning in the camp. It wasn’t the best one, Xavier had told her, but it was good enough. “You won, so it has to be a good one.” Sarah snorted. She wouldn’t call almost falling to her death from a lack of upper body strength, nor slicing up a thirteen year-old kid, nor even hiding out in Pan’s sauna-like tent much of a good story.

“Maybe this is all fun and games to you,” She told him shortly, “But it’s very much life and death to me.” To her surprise, Xavier laughed.

“Well duh, that’s what makes it fun.” He grinned, and Sarah stared back at him in disbelief. “I mean, none of us _actually_ expect to die of course, but if there’s no danger at all we might as well just sit in camp all day.” He brandished an arm, showing off a long graze where an arrow had ripped through his sleeve. “Got this fighting off Loto’s band.” He said proudly. “It’s going to look so cool when it scars.”

Arthur took his arm from the air with an exasperated air, holding it closer to his face to examine it. He squinted at the angry red line flecked over with dirt and grit. “Did you clean this at all?” He demanded. “It’s going to get infected.” Xavier shrugged. He didn’t care much about such things, but he didn’t complain when Arthur laid his arm across his lap to begin cleaning it for him.  Sarah watched them with an odd feeling in her heart. They fit in so well here, not only with each other but with the rest of the Lost Boys. She wondered if she’d ever feel as at home as they did.

“I am also curious about your victory.” Rasheed said quietly. When she looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. “It is odd to me that you evaded capture long enough to make it to camp.” She supposed that was the closest thing to a compliment she was likely to get from him, though it still felt very much like an insult. Seeing Xavier’s pleading look, she at last relented.

“Fine.” She sighed. “It’s not a very good story though.” Arthur admonished his patient to hold still. “I’m sure you all heard Pan betraying my position to God and everybody at the start of the game,” She began. Her audience traded looks. They had, and at least one of them had questions as to why he had done so, but they let her continue uninterrupted. “So of course it wasn’t long until Felix caught up with me.” She told them the story of her escape across the chasm only to run into Kasim’s group, meeting up with them, and dipping back to hide in camp. When they pressed her for why Felix had let her go, she could only shrug – friends or no, she didn’t want to tell them about her fear of heights if they were going to be fighting each other on a regular basis.

“You really hid in Pan’s tent?” Arthur asked quietly, at the end of her story. She nodded quickly, but then looked away into the fire. She hadn’t told them about Pan’s discovery of her, and she wasn’t entirely keen to. “How did he…” Arthur paused, straining to keep his voice even. “How did he take that?” Sarah reached her left hand up behind her head, gripping her neck nervously. Xavier, unhappy with the decidedly un-adventurous direction the story was headed, shifted uncomfortably on his seat.

“Not well.” Sarah said at last, staring down at the blade mark across her other hand. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it still stung. Not to mention…She shook her head, striving to sound casual. “Lesson learned, I guess. Pan is very territorial. Who knew?” The other three looked back at her with uncertainty. Frankly, Rasheed was surprised she had not been killed or caged. To say their leader was territorial was…an understatement. Xavier was the first to break the silence.

“Well,” He began slyly, “I suppose this wasn’t the first time you were in his tent, after all.” Sarah looked at him piercingly. What was he implying? “Yesterday after Lucian laid you out, and Rasheed said Pan took you there after you almost knifed him, too.”  He ticked them off on his fingers. “That’s two more times than anyone but Felix has been in there.” His tone shifted to a needling curiosity. “Is it true his bed is made of skulls?” Arthur snorted. The boys talked plenty about what secrets Pan might keep in his tent, when their leader wasn’t around to hear them.  A few of the younger boys had asked Felix once, what the inside of their leader’s lair was like, and he had told them so many ridiculous things that eventually they had stopped asking. If they wanted to get at Pan’s secrets, Felix certainly wasn’t the way to go.

Sarah blinked hard. “No.” She said flatly. “He does not sleep on a bed made of skulls.” Her face twisted. “How would you even sleep on that? That’s ridiculous.” Xavier’s face grew sulky. With a sigh, Sarah pushed herself up. “I don’t know about all of you, but I for one need sleep before Pan’s latest hell-scheme comes to fruition tomorrow.” With an exchange of farewells, she made her way to her tent. She had the oddest feeling, on the way back, that she was being watched. Whenever she turned around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Zack was chatting happily with his own friends amongst the Lost Boys, as were Nibs and Kasim. Lucian was nowhere in sight. Unable to shake the feeling of off-ness, she tied the flaps to her tent closed with extra firmness, checking the knots three times before she at last slipped onto her pallet for the night. There, exhaustion took over and she lulled away to a dreamless sleep.

When she awoke the next morning, the feeling had not gone away. She pulled her boots back on uneasily, then stayed as still as she could on her pallet to listen for noises outside. Nothing out of the ordinary caught her ear. Birds and insects chattered idly in the background, though the backing track of camp was absent of its usual snores. Taking a deep breath, she stood and undid the knots of her tent. She peered through the gap between the canvas panels, on the lookout for danger or mischief. Seeing, none, she crept out. It must have still been early, as she saw none of the other inhabitants stirring. As she walked towards the center of the camp, she saw that mists still pooled in the low regions. She would have thought it beautiful, if not for the unshakable sense that Something was Wrong.

“Boo.” She turned with a shout, jumping away from the unexpected noise. Felix grinned down at her, club balanced casually over his shoulder. Of course it was Felix, who else would be up this early? “Something the matter, little bird?” He drawled with a grin. “You seem tense.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Fine.” She huffed. Her eyes darted to the side. “Everything’s fine.” Everything did not feel fine.

“Not trying to sneak out early, are you?” He asked casually. “That would be a fair bit like cheating.” He thumped the club against his shoulder. “And I’d hate for you to find out what happens to cheaters.”

“I bet you would.” Sarah muttered darkly. She brought her eyes back up, watching the blonde giant with suspicion. “And what about you?” She pressed. “What are you doing up so early, trying to sneak out yourself?” Felix laughed.

“I don’t need to rely on hiding to win.” She bristled at the condescension dripping from his words.

“I still beat you.” She shot back.

“And I believe I let you go.” She found his even calmness infuriating. She glared at him in silence a long moment.

“You only let me go because you didn’t think I would cross the rope.” She challenged. “Otherwise, why offer it?” Felix returned her glare with a serene expression, leaving her challenge unanswered. She turned from him with a growl, not in the mood to deal with his laconic gibing this morning. The club tapped lightly on her shoulder, and she turned back. “What?” She demanded. “Did Pan give an order that I can’t walk more than five feet from my tent or something?” Felix regarded her with lifted brows. She glanced away, embarrassed over the shortness of her temper. “Look, I’m not going to hide out early for Pan’s stupid game.” She nudged the ground with her foot. “I just need to get out of camp for a while.” She couldn’t have explained why to Felix even if she wanted to, but a part of her was certain the ominous cloud weighing her down would be lighter once she left the Lost Boys’ domain.

“Oh?” Apparently she’d have to try. She struggled in silence to put her finger on what it was that was bothering her, but frustratingly came up blank.

“Something feels off.” She said at last.

“Wondered when you’d notice.” She stared up at her companion in irate bewilderment. If he was so casual about it, did that mean he felt it too? Or was it another one of Pan’s tricks? Maybe he’d drugged her or something last night, and that’s why she was feeling so paranoid. “Guess Nibs wins this time.” Sarah growled.

“For once in your life,” She demanded, “Could you maybe share with the class what you’re talking about?” Felix blinked as though bored.

“Lucian’s been hounding you since the game ended yesterday.” He told her with a shrug. “Nibs and I made a bet on when you’d notice.” His face stretched to a lazy grin. “I didn’t think you would.” Sarah blinked, her heartrate kicking up. She hadn’t gone anywhere but camp since her “victory” the day before, and she hadn’t seen Lucian at all.  She tried to look around her furtively, wondering what he was planning.

“Is this another of Pan’s games?” She asked quietly. Felix snorted. In truth, it was quite the opposite. Felix hadn’t put Lucian on his team yesterday because he was an especial fan of the Lost Boy, though his stealth certainly was a useful skill. No, Pan didn’t like when others encroached on his territory, so it was in Lucian’s best interests for Felix to make sure he didn’t get too far out of line. It was for that reason as well that he’d taken up guard duty this morning. His instincts told him Lucian was planning something nasty for Pan’s latest obsession, and it would be a real pain if whatever it was interfered with Pan’s own nasty plans for her, whatever they were. He reflected idly that his life would have been a lot easier if she’d stayed in the cage – though perhaps a bit more boring, to be fair.

“Believe it or not, Lost Girl, you can make people dislike you all on your own.” Felix told her at last. She scowled.

“I didn’t do a thing to Lucian except show up.” She grumbled. Felix shrugged.

“You want to get out of camp or not?” He asked flatly, motioning towards the jungle. Sarah looked at him askance. He was being unusually helpful today, and she didn’t quite trust it.

“I thought leaving before the game started was cheating?” She questioned slowly. It was then that she noticed Felix was very close to her – her experiences with Pan were evidently rewiring her concept of personal space, or she might have realised it earlier. Now that she was aware of his closeness, she felt suddenly uncomfortable. “When does the game start, anyway? Shouldn’t Pan be up and strutting around by now?” Aside from the jungle fauna, camp  _was_ unusually quiet.

“Didn’t I mention?” His face split in a knife-blade grin. “It already did.”


	38. Better

Sarah turned and bolted towards the jungle, but she was far too slow to outrun Felix’s much longer stride. He caught her easily by the arm, laughing over her protests. _This day is_ not _off to a good start._ She thought grumpily. She struggled against Felix’s grip, but quieted when he suggested she could be carried if she objected to being led by the arm. “I hate you so much.” She told him sulkily, and he laughed. “Why even bother with the conversation if you were just going to grab me anyway?” He was pushing her out of camp now, to where she had no idea. For a free-for-all game, he walked with an astonishing lack of concern or urgency. Perhaps he knew the other boys feared him, and were unlikely to try and challenge him one-on-one. _If that’s the case,_ she mused idly, _they might as well call the game for Felix now._

“Maybe I wanted to see if you could figure it out for yourself,” He remarked. “But you were too slow, and I got bored waiting.” She growled in response.

“You can’t keep any eye on me the whole game.” Felix glanced down at her, amused. “Not if you want to capture other flags.” If he wanted to win, he’d have to leave her unguarded at some point. Otherwise he’d just be waiting for Lost Boys to come to him, and that seemed unlikely given his reputation.

“Who says I want to capture other flags?” He drawled. Sarah glared up at him.

“I’m pretty sure that’s how you win the game,” She told him irately. She added in a grumble, “Of course, I was pretty sure the game hadn’t started yet, so what do I know?”

“Not a thing, little bird.” Felix answered her lightly. “Not a thing about anything.” Alright, that was it. She dropped her weight to the ground, bringing the both of them to a sudden stop with her arm swinging above her in Felix’s grasp. He looked down, mildly annoyed, at his now seated captive and narrowed his eyes. “Do you really want to do this the hard way?” He threatened. She answered with narrowed eyes of her own, setting her jaw in a defiant stare. “Suit yourself.”

If she had thought being carried through the jungle was unpleasant, being dragged through the jungle was even more so. It took several attempts, but before long she had scrambled and stumbled to her feet again, spitting out leaves and dirt. _This is just embarrassing_ , she admonished herself. _Yesterday you won the game, and now you’re barely even putting up a fight_. Yesterday, she’d known she was playing. And she’d at least started with a weapon, even if both of them had been taken from her by the end of the day. She wished now that she’d taken the time to imagine another knife for herself before she got up this morning. She blinked. _Sarah, you idiot._ A slow smile crept onto her face as she closed her eyes, trusting Felix’s guidance for the moment while she pictured a long, straight dagger in the hand of her unheld arm. It was a simple thing, but strong and sharp, unadorned steel with a stout iron handle. She could feel its heft, and a sense of elation filled her as she opened her eyes.

The normally unflappable Felix was more than a little surprised when his previously unarmed captive whirled around and held a dagger to his throat. Sarah grinned to see his eyes go wide, feeling a surge of power at this small victory over her number two foe. “Where did – ” he paused, seeing for the first time the flicker of something dark behind Sarah’s eyes. _That_ was unusual, though not as unusual as a dagger that appeared out of nowhere, without even a stick to transform itself from. Food was one thing, but believing functional objects into being was quite another – it normally took newcomers a long time to pick up the skill, if they ever did, and even then they ordinarily needed a tangible, similar object to help them along. Pan, however, could do it with ease. Pan, with shadows that swirled in his eyes, had never had any trouble believing.

Felix watched Sarah carefully over the dagger, his face retreating to its more typical calm demeanour. Perhaps there was something to Pan’s latest obsession after all. A slow smile slid onto his face. “Flag to Team Sarah,” He said lightly. Things had just gotten a great deal more interesting. Sarah looked surprised at first, but then nodded. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to accede.

“Drop the club.” Sarah tried her best to sound imperious. She knew Felix could beat her even without it, but she’d take any advantage she could from him. His favoured weapon clattered to the jungle floor with a thunk. The problem now was how to restrain him. Her only rope was tied around her waist, and if she dropped the dagger to tie him up, he’d probably get away from her. And if she was really unlucky, she’d end up as the one restrained.  There was also the problem of transporting him. She had to stand on her tip-toes just to threaten him, walking was going to be awkward. Unless of course, she didn’t threaten his throat. She circled behind him, grabbing one arm with her free hand and trapping the other by dropping the dagger down to the level of his stomach. She thought she heard a snort. “Don’t think I won’t stab you,” She told him darkly. As she pondered how best to keep her captive, a thought trickled into her mind. “Take me to the cages,” She directed, a wide grin sliding across her face.

This time, the snort was more obvious. “I’m not leading you anywhere, Lost Girl.” She pressed the dagger’s edge more firmly against his stomach, threatening the vital organs contained within.

“I don’t think I stuttered, Felix,” she said sweetly, her voice half way to sing-song. Her prisoner began to walk, and she followed nearly bouncing with excitement. Revenge was going to be so, so sweet. Oh, how the tables had turned. Could she have imagined when she first came here, terrified and lost, that she’d be pushing the very same boy at knifepoint who’d frightened her into a cage into one of his own? She’d never have believed it, yet here she was, glorying in the victory she’d sworn she’d find ever since the day he’d shown her up at the wall of boulders outside the pond.

Being still new to the work of threats and intimidation, Sarah couldn’t be faulted for not knowing that a compliant prisoner is often a dangerous one. For his part, Felix was explicitly unconcerned about the dagger poised above his stomach. For one thing, he doubted Sarah had it in her to strike anything like a killing blow. For another, he was confident in his own strength and speed if she did try to knock her hand away before she succeeded. If he was worried about anything, it was that she might trip on a vine and stab him that way, throwing him too off balance to react as she did so. He heard a slight rustle in the foliage, though Sarah didn’t seem to. A slight smile crept over his face. He had a feeling she’d forgotten there were other players in the game.

She was reminded soon enough. A boy with long dark curls burst from the foliage, spear poised to strike. He stopped abruptly at the scene in front of him, gazing at the two in confusion. “Felix?” The disbelief in his tone was palpable. When he’d heard Felix’s voice with the girl’s, he’d assumed a reverse in role from what he now saw. He’d expected a fierce fight against Felix, hopefully aided by his captive’s extreme dislike of him – he hadn’t spoken to her himself, but word was she despised him utterly – but he wasn’t at all sure how to process what he saw now.

“Loto.” Felix acknowledged the younger boy calmly. Sarah leaned her head out from behind Felix to glare at the newcomer. He looked around Xavier’s age, or perhaps a little younger, with warm-toned skin and dark eyes that gazed back at her in pure bewilderment.

“Move.” She ordered. “Or your beloved second in command gets it.” Loto stared, blinked, and then laughed. Sarah scowled, pushing Felix forward. The boy stopped.

“Felix,” He was serious now. “What are you doing?” Now that he looked, he could see very well that Felix could get out of his imprisonment in an instant if he wanted to. Loto couldn’t figure out why he didn’t. Much to Sarah’s annoyance, her captive shrugged.

“What’s it look like he’s doing?” She demanded. “He’s being a captured flag.” She was starting to get a bad feeling about how easy this had been. Something told her she had better hurry things along. She deepened her scowl, trying to look menacing. “Are you going to move, or aren’t you?” Loto leaned against his spear like a walking stick, casually blocking their path. Sarah considered her options. If she dropped the knife from Felix’s stomach, she’d be able to try fighting Loto. She would probably lose, and Felix would be free to boot. If she stayed in a stand-off, they’d all be stuck there until someone else found them or the end of the game. The odds could only get worse against her, unless her hope was to sneak out while the rest of them were fighting. She looked over at Loto, watching them casually. Perhaps there was another option. “I’ll make you a deal.” She began slyly. Loto tilted his head. “You and I will go our separate ways. And to sweeten it, I’ll leave this,” She gestured at Felix. “With you.”

“What makes you think he’ll agree?” Loto asked. It sounded for all the word as though he were covering a laugh.

“I have a dagger to his stomach!” She insisted. “And you can even have the rope around my waist to tie him up with-I’ll hold him for you.” Loto looked to one side, then the other, as if consulting with someone she couldn’t see.

“You’ve got a deal, Lost Girl.” He said at last, smiling. He didn’t quite believe Felix would stand still and let himself trade hands as a prisoner, but as he untied the rope from around Sarah’s waist and retied it around Felix’s hands, he found himself forced to accept the evidence of his own eyes. “Felix, seriously.” He whispered low, not wanting Sarah to overhear. “What gives?” Capturing Felix would ordinarily be a magnificent feat of power and skill, but this was…not.

If Sarah thought she’d be getting away from him so easily, she would find herself yet again sadly mistaken. Felix had the feeling Lucian was still close by, and it would be no end of trouble if Sarah ran into him on her own. Or more accurately, it would be no end of trouble if Lucian went after her. If Felix had to act as a captured flag for a bit to prevent that from happening, well, so be it. At least this way he wouldn’t be waiting boredly for the others to work up the nerve to challenge him. His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Wouldn’t two flags be better than one?” He whispered back. Loto raised his eyebrows. He had agreed to let Sarah go after she gave him Felix, and was loathe to break the deal outright. He struggled to keep from smiling as comprehension dawned. He had agreed – but Felix hadn’t. As Loto tied the last knot, he nodded to Sarah, who stepped away from Felix and turned to go. Her plans were interrupted by Felix himself, who swung his arms, tied only at the wrists, up and over to catch her close. She might have cut herself loose with the dagger if not for Loto threatening her soon afterwards with his spear. Taking a coil of rope from his own belt, He pried the dagger from Sarah’s hands and tied hers as well, whereupon Felix released her. Fuming, she made a number of colorful remarks about those who break their deals. Loto nodded at the older boy, pleased with himself.

“You’re right Felix. Two flags _are_ better than one.”


	39. Exhilarating

The three made an odd party as they crept through the jungle, Sarah and Felix connected by a lead string which ended in Loto’s right hand. Loto and Felix moved with the effortless quiet that came from who knows how many years of living on the island and stalking through its jungles. Sarah was another story. If there was a rock to kick skittering or a twig to snap, somehow, she found it. Several times Loto had turned to look at his captives with a glare, raising his finger to his lips in a silent command. He worked best with the element of surprise, and Sarah was ruining it utterly.

Sarah was in no mood to be helpful, of course, and might have made even more noise if Loto had not made it clear quite early on that he had no compunctions about using the business end of his spear to keep her in line. Trying to call his bluff had left her with a fresh hole in her shirt and a light scratch across her ribcage, and she had quickly opted for discretion being the better part of valour. About half an hour had passed since then, and she was beginning to get antsy. Sneaking a glance at her fellow prisoner, she was annoyed to discover him as serene as if he were the one doing the capturing. “Felix!” She hissed. He glanced at her askance. “Why are you so calm about this? Aren’t you supposed to be Pan’s big, scary right hand?” His face contorted in a noiseless snort. Sarah scowled, and the three traveled in relative silence again until Sarah started to feel the rope chafing around her wrists. “We could escape.” She whispered decisively. “If we work together.”

Felix shook his head slowly. “Don’t feel like it.” He told her slyly. She stared. Maybe Felix was too far into Pan’s good graces to worry about his ominous foreshadowing over the fate of the losers, but he might at least care about his reputation. Loto stopped ahead of them, raising a hand. Sarah shifted nervously as he listened intently to something her ear couldn’t parse. All she heard were the normal sounds of the jungle. A spear pieced from the foliage towards Loto, who barely dodged the strike in time. He backed up quickly, drawing his attacker into the open as Kasim advanced towards him with a grim determination.

Needing all his focus to prevent becoming a captured flag himself, Loto dropped the lead string and Sarah took the chance to bolt – only to find herself restricted by virtue of being still tied to Felix, who was standing in place with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Felix!” She hissed. “This is our chance!” Felix sat down, stretching his tied hands out in front of him with a yawn, then leaned back to watch the fight. Sarah could have screamed. _Think, Sarah._ She ordered herself. _And quickly, before the fight is over._ Trying to undo the knot was no good. She’d been fumbling with it the entire time they’d been walking, but to no avail. With her hands tied together, imagining a knife wouldn’t be of much use either. She wracked her brain for things she could conjure which might help her get the ropes off, but came up blank of anything remotely helpful.

 _What if…_ the thought formed hesitantly, as if she were afraid to entertain it. _Maybe I could burn them off?_ She hadn’t tried to summon fire outside of her temper snaps before, and a part of her worried that trying to use it would be giving in to the feelings that ordinarily brought it up. And of course, she couldn’t be sure that in trying to conjure the magical fire that didn’t burn her, she wouldn’t imagine up a Neverland fire that did. _If that happens, I’ll just…stop believing in it._ She hoped that would work. After pulling her sleeves up with her teeth, she closed her eyes in concentration, trying to summon the crackling warmth that came so easily when she was enraged. Now, with only a light irritation to fuel her, nothing happened. She tried again, this time thinking about things that made her angry: Bigots. Cyclists who rode the wrong way up one-way streets. Felix. _Go for the kill,_ the familiar voice of her darker impulses whispered. What made her really, truly angry? Being laughed at. Being looked down on. Being jerked around, treated as a plaything for an egotistical, narcissistic, unhinged – She felt the warmth as a crackling flood.

Sarah opened her eyes slowly, watching with a reserved triumph as the flames licked around the ropes. She pulled against them with her wrists until the fire-weakened strands fell away, snuffing out on the damp jungle floor. The crackle of the flames had drawn Felix’s attention, and she looked up from the ropes now to meet his shocked expression. A slow grin slit across her face. “Enjoy the game, Felix.” She told him quietly, then turned to run. Why didn’t she use this kind of magic all the time? The sound of Felix lighting to his feet behind her seemed so far away. She felt powerful, electrified, as though she could do anything and best anyone. Though somewhere she knew she ought to be quiet, a harsh laugh spilled from her lungs as she ran, free as the wind, on the high of her magical anger.

The sound of Felix getting up in a hurry drew the attention of the two fighters. Sarah was small fry, and though Loto wondered how she’d gotten free, he wasn’t overly concerned with her escape. Felix on the other hand was a prize neither of the fighters were willing to let slip. With a nod of truce, they left their battle for another time to ensure Felix didn’t escape, blocking his path with both their spears. Growling, Felix swiped at them with his bound hands. This is not how he had intended his morning to go, and he had half a mind to _let_ Sarah and Lucian’s little spat boil over and let _them_ worry about cleaning up the mess. Or let Lucian, at any rate – Sarah likely wouldn’t be in much of a state to do anything.

Lucian, meanwhile, had been waiting for his chance at revenge. Sarah had made Pan angry with him, had gotten him banished from camp for the entirety of a night for no other reason than that she was weak, incapable of holding her own in something as simple as a duel with sticks. Not even real weapons! Her very presence on the island galled him. Now, without anyone around to swoop in and rescue her, she would have to face the truth: girls didn’t belong on Neverland. _She_ didn’t belong on Neverland, with her parents who cared and a home worth going back to. He dropped from the canopy, landing in front of her with a malicious grin.

Sarah stopped short, panting from the exertion. She met Lucian’s eyes with a piercing stare, still enervated from the power of her anger. From somewhere in her mind, the rational part of her knew she was in deep trouble, and tried to urge her to keep running, as fast and as far as she could. “Finally come out to play?” She asked. That rational part was not in control right now. Lucian scowled, drawing a sword – real this time, with edges and all – and brandished it in front of him. Sarah held her hands up in response, smiling as they burst to flame. Lucian’s eyes went wide, and he took a step back. Sarah’s face twisted in a shadowed smirk. “Lucky me.”

She shot her hand forward, the flame arcing towards the Lost Boy in an angry red haze. Lucian threw himself to the ground to dodge it and it crackled out against a tree, leaving behind wisps of smoke and singed bark. _Sarah, stop._ Her more rational self ordered. She was playing with more than one kind of fire here, enjoying the shock in Lucian’s eyes as he scrabbled away from her far too much. He pushed himself up as she walked towards him, another ball of flame spinning around her hand.  Lucian tossed his sword to the side, putting his hands up shakily in surrender. Sarah looked from the sword, to her hand, to the tall boy in front of her. _What are you doing?_ Her conscience demanded. _It’s over, it’s time to calm down. Stop this._ She was standing up to a bully. She was making sure he wouldn’t hurt her again. He had started this, but it was time for her to finish it. She’d show him how wrong he’d been to think she was weak, to ever _dare_ think she was weak. She raised her hand.

“Sarah!” Felix’s shout, louder than she’d ever heard him before, crashed around her shoulders. She turned with a snarl, shadowed eyes boring into Felix’s own wide with shock. His hands were still bound, and a light scratch from Kasim’s spear graced the unscarred side of his face. He was Pan’s second in command for a reason, however, and even the two Lost Boys working together had not been able to keep him for long. He had expected to have to fight Lucian as well, not…whatever this was.

“Stay out of this, lap dog.” Sarah spat. She felt like steel and storm, weighty and weightless, an unstoppable gale shifting around a cruel and righteous core. She barked a laugh. “Run along home to your master.” Felix regarded her carefully.

“You don’t know what you’re messing with, little bird.” He warned, his voice fixed to a cheerful calm. He wasn’t afraid of Sarah’s fire, he had been around Pan far too long for that, but he had the nagging concern his leader might not appreciate the methods he’d have to use to subdue her. Sarah’s face twisted upwards in a malicious smirk.

“Why don’t you try me.” She dared. She tossed the fire towards Felix, who dove beneath it and straight into Sarah, knocking her to the ground. She shrieked with rage, flames tracing back up until Felix knocked her face to the side, breaking her concentration with a hard blow.

“Don’t make me hurt you for real.” His voice was low and threatening. “Stop whatever this is, or you won’t like the consequences.” He watched as Sarah slowly tilted her head back up to look him in the eye, a dark stream of pure hatred. Felix had mocked her from the moment she’d set foot on the island. He’d threatened her, chased her, caged her, laughed at her – a hundred insults and injustices, and even now he still acted as though she were beneath him, a child playing at a game too difficult to even think about having a chance at winning.

“We’ll see who hurts who.” She snarled, fire arcing over her hands once more. Felix knocked her face to the side again, and again, and once more before sliding his arms over her, pulling them both up while she swayed in disorientation. He placed his bound wrists firmly in front of her throat, pulling back with just enough pressure to threaten without injuring.

“Felix.” Pan’s cool voice cut through the clearing, and three heads shifted in unison to see the boy king standing casually, arms crossed, with a look of bored annoyance on his face. Sarah hissed, Lucian froze, and Felix sent his leader a beseeching look. His latest interest had gotten out of hand, and in Felix’s opinion it was high time Pan did something about it. “Let her go.” Felix scrunched his forehead in confusion, and Pan sighed at his hesitation. “That wasn’t a suggestion.” With a dark look, Felix lifted his hands from over her, pushing her towards Pan and taking several large steps back.

Sarah stumbled forward, turning her head to glare at Felix before shifting her focus to the ultimate source of her anger. _Pan_. The flames were content no longer with her hands, and danced in twining bands about her wrists to halfway up her forearm. Silently, she hurled a bolt of flame in his direction. The barest wave of his hand split it harmlessly around him, and through the fire he stalked towards her with the deadly grace of a panther. “It’s exhilarating, isn’t it?” He deflected another lance of fire. “The anger. The power. Like nothing else in the world.” Another step brought him mere inches from her. “Don’t deny it.” His hand, lightning-fast, snaked out to trap hers. He panted through the pain of licking flames. “Embrace it.” The cold darkness flashed behind his eyes, and he saw something familiar spark in Sarah’s own.

Sarah’s more rational mind recoiled as something rose within her to meet Pan’s kindred spirit. She shoved the feeling down as fear washed over her in waves. She was not like Pan. _She was not like Pan._ The fire circling around her arms quieted and vanished and Pan felt her force shift from pushing against him to pulling back, much more weakly than she had mere moments before. “No.” She whispered. She shook her head slowly, and her pull became more insistent. He frowned. “No. No, this isn’t.” Her free arm snaked over her stomach, clutching at it as though she could keep her sense of self from flaking off to what she feared she’d find beneath. “I won’t be you.” Her voice shook. “I will never be you.”

“Is that so?” Pan’s hand reached out to trace her face. She pulled back, her breathing shallow, and she stared at his hand as though it were a viper. Eyes narrowing, he tightened his grip around her hand until she winced. “Then I hope you’re prepared to lose this game.” He threw her forcefully aside. She could be so much, yet she chose to be weak! It angered him to a depth that might have made him wonder if he’d been in a more even state of mind. As it was, he had a mind to end their little game for once and all. It would be so easy.

It should have been easy, but something in him resisted.  _The island_. He thought of Sarah at the waterfall, Sarah in the mist, Sarah wrapped in vines, and Sarah knocked out at his knees while the island guided him to heal her wound. Sarah and the island were connected.  He needed that connection, needed to control it. To understand it. To use it. And for that to happen, the game would have to continue. _That_  was why he found it hard to act on what he wanted, surely. He snarled as he fought down the urge to show her just what choosing weakness meant. Afraid he might do something he’d regret, Pan vanished from above her. The red smoke he left behind settled out along the ground, wrapping over Sarah’s huddled form.


	40. Sentimental

Pan reappeared at his thinking tree. He sent a fireball of his own hurtling towards the ground, watching irately as it sparked and singed on the damp earth of the jungle. He couldn’t say why Sarah’s refusal angered him so much. He’d never cared one way or the other if the Lost Boys decided to be weak. They were strong, or they died – and that was the end of it. Even if she did have a connection to the island, what was stopping him from using it up and then getting rid of her? She was nothing. He brought up his wrist, gazing at the puncture she’d made there the day before.

 No, not quite nothing. She was a burning coal, though whether she would flare up or burn out he could never guess from one moment to the next. When this game had started, he’d wanted to break her. He had seen her broken since, or something very like it, and though he couldn’t say why it hadn’t brought him the enjoyment he had thought it would. If anything it had done the opposite, stirring uncomfortable and unnamable feelings from within him. But if that wasn’t his goal in their game, what was?

He still wanted to use her. If she and the island’s magic were connected, he might solve at last his greatest problem, the only wrinkle in his otherwise perfect reign. But that didn’t require a game, not really. A little torture here, a few threats there – perhaps some well-placed statements about her parents, and he knew he could make her do anything he wanted with her magic from the island. No, that wasn’t the point of their game anymore either. He realised it now. To make her use her connection to the island was one thing, but how much better it would be if she did so willingly.

Pan no longer wanted to break her. He wanted to mould her. Buried somewhere under her softness, her light, her weakness and her fear, was a darkness that called to him. Yet she refused to see it! His anger threatened to flare up again, but he calmed it. _I already know her weakness._ He told himself. Now that he knew what he wanted, the path to getting it was so clear. It would be tricky, and the Lost Boys no doubt would wonder what had become of their terrifying leader in the meantime, but he knew, he knew in the end it would be worth it. With a smile on his face, he began a slow walk back towards the camp. Excitement prickled up around his chest as he thought of all the ways to boil his frog.

In the portion of the jungle he had come from, the mood was not so cheerful. Lucian had long since departed, anxious to get away from a fight between Felix, Pan, and a girl who had turned out to be far more frightening than he’d bargained for. Ever-watchful Felix had remained, taking in the unusual dynamic between his oldest acquaintance and his newest. Whatever he thought of the new side of Sarah that had been brought to light, of the oddness of someone attacking Pan and living, he didn’t show it on his face. He watched Sarah a long while after Pan disappeared to see how she would react. Whatever anger had fueled her earlier seemed to have run out, but for all he knew it would flare up again in a few moments. Although he had lived on a magical island for countless years, he had never trusted any magic that didn’t come from Pan. Even then, he kept a reserved suspicion.

Sarah, meanwhile, was swirling in a maelstrom of her own thoughts. _You idiot, Sarah._ She scolded herself. _You absolute idiot. You knew Pan wanted you to use magic, you_ knew _! Why would you make yourself that angry on purpose? To escape a silly game?_ Whatever Pan had planned for the losers, it couldn’t be so bad that playing right into his hands would ever be worth it. _You wanted to do it._  The darker part of her mind needled. _What are you so afraid of? Standing up for yourself?_ She thought of Lucian’s face after he surrendered. She had done more than just stand up for herself, and what might she have done if Felix hadn’t interrupted her? She covered her face with her hands as a wave of shame washed over her. She was a monster. No better than Pan. Had she always been a monster, or was it the island, changing her into something she would never have become if she’d stayed in her normal, boring life? No, not the island. Not Neverland. Pan. One hand left her face, beating the ground in a forceless fist. 

 _This is not your problem._ Felix sighed, casting his eyes upwards as he made a decision strongly against his better judgement. _Pan’s not going to like it_. He walked towards her anyway. He stared down at her a long moment before, with another sigh, he sat down next to her. She didn’t stir. “That was quite a show, little bird.” He drawled. Sarah uncovered her face, turning slowly to look at him. He blinked. Her face looked haunted, with fear and pain and confusion all shaken up and poured over a tall glass of uncertainty. Her eyes flickered to his wrists. He had cut himself loose on Lucian’s sword, but she could see scorch marks on the edges of his sleeves.

“You should put me back in the cages.” Her voice was quiet, emotionless. Felix raised his brows. He’d been on the island a long time, but someone asking to go back to the cages was a first. “I could have killed you. I almost killed Lucian.” She mumbled something else under her breath, but he couldn’t make it out.  She stared at the ground in front of them, lost in thought. A long silence followed.

“Well Lost Girl,” Felix offered at last. Sarah looked back up at him slowly, and he grinned. “Told you you couldn’t kill me if you tried.” She stared at him, eyebrows scrunching. She wasn’t sure what response she’d been expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it. Didn’t he care that she’d tried to burn him to a crisp?

“What if next time I do?” She insisted.

Felix rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen you fight. You won’t.” Her face remained grim. “Careful, little bird.” Felix needled. “For someone who claims to hate me, it’s starting to seem as though you care.”

“That doesn’t mean I want you dead!” Sarah snapped, then winced. She was afraid to become angry again today. A long silence followed. When she spoke again at last, Felix could barely make out the words. “How do you do it?” He lifted his brows. Sarah glanced off, unable to look him in the eye. “You never react to anything.” She fiddled nervously with a twig at her feet. “You’re always in control of yourself. How do you do it?”

Felix swore mentally. This is why he didn’t involve himself with other people’s problems, particularly when they were problems caused by Pan. He wasn’t cut out for emotional support, and even if he were Pan probably wouldn’t want his handiwork undone. He took in the way Sarah held herself, as if she were an overfull glass in danger of spilling over. The rims of her eyes were red. He swore again. “You learn discipline.” When he spoke at last, the forced cheerfulness which normally pervaded his voice was gone, replaced by something stony. “Whatever you’re feeling, ask yourself if it’s useful. If it is, use it. If it isn’t, get rid of it.” He picked up a pebble and tossed it through the trees. “You’ll never control your surroundings.” Only Pan could do that. “So learn to control yourself.”

Sarah drew her eyes back up to him as he spoke, watching as something strange flickered behind his eyes. For the first time, she began to wonder about the person behind Pan’s second in command. Pan had told her all the Lost Boys had come from places where they felt alone and abandoned. Where they felt unloved. It wasn’t hard to imagine Felix alone. Even when he fought or played or celebrated with the other Lost Boys, a part of him seemed to be held back, kept away from the rest of the world. It _was_ hard to imagine him caring. Was it possible that under all his cool demeanour, his mock cheer, his needling barbs, he knew what it was like to be lonely? To be not just a Lost Boy, but to be lost? “Why did you come to Neverland, Felix?” She asked softly. She couldn’t have said why she asked. Something about the moment felt different to her, as though they were not right now Pan’s plaything and Pan’s loyal right hand, but simply people, sharing parts of themselves kept hidden from a world of teeth and thorns.  Perhaps Felix felt differently. He didn’t respond. Silently, cautiously, she reached a hand out to rest on his arm. The moment fell away as with a clatter, and the next moment found the two standing. The arm that had reached out was once more bent behind her back.

“That’s not your business.” The forced lightness had returned to Felix’s voice. Sarah pulled against her arm, testing his grip, but it held. “I think it’s time we got back to the game, wouldn’t you agree?” He turned them both around, forcing her back towards the spot where he had left Kasim and Loto. With any luck they were still there, two more flags to add to the one he now held by the arm. Sarah remained oddly quiet, thinking over the suspension of hostilities that had passed between them, however brief. Perhaps Felix didn’t warrant the second-place spot on her enemies list after all.

“Felix?” Her voice was still soft, but he responded with a shove. “Thank you.” Felix stopped walking. He leaned down to speak closer to her ear, his voice low and threatening.

“If you get sentimental on me, Lost Girl, I’m throwing you to the mermaids.” Sarah smiled as he pushed her forward again. No, as strange as it seemed, it was possible she had been wrong about Felix.


	41. Changed

When the horn signaling game end sounded across the island, no one was surprised to see that Felix led the largest trail of flags back to the camp. Despite their best efforts and some marginal attempts at coordinated escape, Sarah, Loto, and Kasim remained prisoners until game end. They were further joined by Cody, Zack, and Alec, an auburn-haired boy around Cody’s age. Nibs returned leading a sulking Xavier and two other boys, while Arthur, Rasheed, and Lucian returned empty-handed but free. A handful of other Lost Boys filtered in with captives, but none had as many as Felix. Pan, looking suspiciously pleased with himself for someone who hadn’t taken part in the game, clapped Felix warmly on the shoulder as he announced his lieutenant’s victory. Several of the captives shifted nervously, concerned over what their fate would be having lost the game.

It appeared Pan was in a much better mood than he had been the day before, however, as he announced that the humiliation of having been captured – or of not managing to capture anyone else – was punishment enough. The majority of the captives had the sense to look properly chastened, not wanting him to change his mind to something worse. With an approving nod, the boy king strode from the group to the privacy of his tent. With their leader gone, the captured flags grew antsy to be untied and set free. This was accomplished with minimal mockery on the part of the victorious, though Nibs scoffed at Xavier’s insistence on a rematch. “Learn when to quit!” He told the other boy imperiously, but then broke into a smile. “Though if you really want to lose three times in a row…” The two were soon wrestling on the ground.

Sarah watched as Felix moved methodically down his line of flags, untying each prisoner and re-coiling their rope. In most cases it had been their own, and she noticed his two youngest captives looked particularly galled to have it handed back to them. When he reached her, he paused. Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “What?” A lazy smile split across Felix’s face.

“I seem to recall,” He drawled, “You left me tied up in the jungle earlier.” He shrugged. “Just thinking maybe I should return the favour.” Sarah looked at him sharply.

“I tried to get you to run, and you wouldn’t.” She told him shortly. “So whose fault was that?” She was confused to find that her heart began to beat a little faster when he reached out to untie her hands. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t been in contact before, but…had his hands always been this warm? _Whatever you think you’re doing,_ she admonished herself, _stop it._ This was Felix, after all. Maybe all this time on the island was starting to get to her. _I’d better not be getting Stockholm Syndrome. Not with_ this _bunch._ The ropes came undone and her arms fell happily back to her sides.

“See you around, Lost Girl.” Felix hefted his club to his shoulder as he turned – once Kasim and Loto had been recovered, he’d made the three backtrack to where he’d dropped it on Sarah’s orders.

“Um, right.” Sarah coughed. “See you.”

“Lost Girl.” Sarah jumped, turning reluctantly as Pan strode towards her. She shook her head, forcibly dislodging her discomfiting thoughts. A prickle of fear climbed over her as he neared. When Pan had left her in the jungle earlier his anger had been clear, and though he seemed to be in a better mood now, she knew that could change at any moment and she worried what the beast had planned for her now. Though inwardly Pan was pleased at her sudden stiffness as she watched him, he managed to keep the smirk from sliding onto his face. “Just who I was looking for. Follow me.”

Sarah was reluctant to follow, but was as yet uncertain how much defiance Pan was in the mood to brook. She settled for a middle ground. “Follow you where?” She asked cautiously. Pan frowned.

“You’ll find out when we get there.” Sarah shook her head slowly. Pan’s surprises were almost never pleasant, and even those that were he usually twisted until they were anything but. Pan rolled his eyes. “Come on Sarah, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Following you into the unknown isn’t an adventure so much as it is a death wish.” She told him flatly. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Just trust me.” Before she could protest that he was the last person on this island and quite possibly the last person of everyone she had ever known that she would willingly trust, he had grabbed her hand and began walking quickly out of camp. Sarah trailed after him, struggling as she tried to pry her hand free. She gave up eventually, settling in to the unusual feeling of her hand in his. It wasn’t that she liked when he pulled her around by the wrist, but on reflection, she decided she might prefer it to this. Walking hand-in-hand felt distressingly intimate, a feeling she found uncomfortable even with those she liked. With Pan, who had only yesterday choked her until she stabbed him, it felt _wrong_.  “Something the matter, Lost Girl?” Pan asked lightly. Her displeasure was obvious even from his brief glance back to her. Her frown deepened at his question.

“If,” She started hesitantly, apprehensive of making his mood – or her situation – worse. “If I promise to follow you, will you let go of my hand?” Pan stopped, furrowing his brows in perplexion. He was being downright pleasant by his usual standards, what reason could she possibly have to be avoiding his gaze right now? He had thought taking a less aggressive approach would lower her defenses, not raise them even higher. He brushed his thumb idly over the back of her fingers, and she flinched. Oh. Of course. His impulse was to grab her other hand as well, draw them up close to him, and taunt her about the warmth he was sure was creeping over her face. With his new playbook, he resisted. He acquiesced slowly to her request, peeling away each individual finger wrapped around her hand. She pulled it back quickly, rubbing it nervously against the leg of her trousers. “Thanks.” She still didn’t meet his eye.

Pan stared at her a moment with eyebrow raised, but soon turned, resuming the course of their path through the jungle. Ordinarily Sarah would be pestering him with questions by this point, but she was unusually quiet today. _What is he up to?_ Sarah peered suspiciously at her guide’s back. As pleased as she was to have her hand free, it was unlike Pan to honour a request without immediately attaching a string. His demeanour was unusual too. By his usual standards, he was acting downright pleasant! Sarah didn’t trust it for a moment. “How is your head feeling?” Sarah’s face wrinkled in confusion.

“I – what?”

“Your head.” Pan repeated. He almost sounded concerned. “After your injury – you took quite a beating, after all.” Sarah blinked.

“It’s…fine.” This was weird. And not the good kind of weird. Was this some kind of twisted foreshadowing? Was he taking her to Lucian to finish what he’d started? A twinge of guilt plucked at her heart. No, she didn’t think Lucian would be coming near her anytime soon. “…why do you ask?” She didn’t think she’d get an answer, and she didn’t think she’d like it even if she did. Still, knowledge was power – and with any luck Pan was in the mood to gloat over whatever his plan for her was this time.

“Can’t I be concerned about my Lost Girl?” Sarah’s eyes widened as her eyebrows shot downwards. She stopped walking, crossing her arms under her chest.

“What are you doing?” She demanded. Pan turned with a lazy smile. He’d expected the boys to be confused, but he hadn’t expected the level to which she was. Perhaps this would be more fun than he’d thought. He schooled his face to an innocent confusion.

“What do you mean?” It was hard not to smile as her eyes narrowed to a glare, but he managed.

“You’re up to something.” Her eyes narrowed further. “I don’t know what it is, but you’re up to something.” This time, Pan couldn’t help from smirking.

“I’m always up to something, sweetheart.” He gave a delicate shrug. “But that doesn’t mean it has to do with you.” He turned back around, forging ahead. “Come on,” He called over his shoulder. “It’s not much further now.” With some hesitation, Sarah followed. He could say what he liked, but something told her the game had changed – and she didn’t think it had changed in her favour.

As they pressed on, the foliage began to change. The dense jungle slowly gave way to a sparser pine forest. The air felt different as well, cooler and dryer than the mugginess that pervaded the jungle. She wondered at first about the stark changes in biome, but reminded herself that she was on a magic island, and soon laid to rest the scientific questions in her mind. The sociological questions, namely what on the island Pan was up to, refused even to stand still, let alone lie down for a rest. As much as she watched him, she could find no hint of what he was planning.

Pan stopped in front of her. She looked around, seeing nothing immediately different. Squinting, she saw that the ground dipped down ahead, but she couldn’t make out what was below. “Come on.” Pan’s voice was quiet as he placed a hand gently behind her shoulder. Sarah tensed, but let him guide her towards the dip. “Close your eyes.” Sarah turned to look back at him with a frown. “Trust me.” She closed her eyes hesitantly, certain she would regret this when he inevitably walked her over a cliff or into a pit of vipers. They took a few more steps forward, hers halting and his sure-footed, till he pulled back on her shoulder to stop her. “Open.” He whispered in her ear. She gasped.

The two were overlooking a hollow straight from the fairytales she had loved so much as a child, with lush green grass dotted through with flowers in every colour she could imagine. Some of the colours she was sure she’d never seen before, and a wide smile lit up her face. Soft lights winked in and out over the waving meadow, and a delicate mist curled around stem and leaf. Sunlight glimmered through the gap in the trees to bounce and sparkle off a burbling stream. Sarah couldn’t help herself. It was so achingly, wonderfully, blissfully beautiful that before she could remember who she was with, a silvery laugh of pure elation spun out from her chest.

Watching her sheer joy at the sight of as simple a thing as a meadow, something odd tugged at Pan’s chest. He frowned, but quickly recovered. “You see?” Sarah jumped beside him – evidently she had forgotten he was there. He felt a little insulted by that, but his plan seemed to be working well enough that small insults could be easily bourne. “I told you you could trust me.” Sarah glanced at him sidelong.

“You didn’t, actually.” Pan scrunched his brows. “You didn’t tell me I could trust you, you just told me to do it.” Her eyes drifted back to the meadow as if magnetised. With a flash of longing, she forcibly tore her eyes back away to look at him. “Seriously Pa-” She caught herself. “Peter. What is this about?” As glad as she was that he wasn’t hurling knives at her, choking her, or threatening to dangle her off of any cliffs, his sudden change in behaviour made her nervous. Pan laughed lightly, his hand trailing down from her shoulder to catch her hand once more. Her eyes flickered down, then back up to his face. His gaze bore into her, and she felt once more their strangely transfixing effect. She tried to pull her hand away, but Pan gently held it back.

“I’m showing you Neverland.” His soft, low voice wrapped around her like the mists of the meadow, curling through her hair and down her ear. In spite of herself, her heartbeat quickened. “All the best, most beautiful places.” He smiled softly, his devil’s face looking in that moment so angelic Sarah could almost forget the beast behind the boy. “Is there something wrong with that?” The plaintive tone of his voice, the pleading look in his eye, Sarah realised very suddenly that she was in a great deal of trouble. When had he gotten so close? Why didn’t she look away? Her breath hitched as he lifted their joined hands to rest over her heart. “I can show you so many things, Sarah.” He murmured, leaning close. “If you let me.”

With a deep, shuddering breath, Sarah wrenched her eyes shut. “No.” Her voice shook. “You’re not – no.” Pan frowned.

“I’m not what?” The edge of darkness was slowly creeping back over his voice. He let her hand go as she pulled it back down to her side, free of his soft grip. “I’m not what?” He demanded, louder this time.

Sarah’s eyes stayed shut. She was afraid if she opened them she would fall under his spell, and she knew to do that would be to lose their game forever. “You’re trying to trick me.” Her words came through gritted teeth, as though opening her mouth to speak would let in unpleasant thoughts or let out admissions best kept in the dark. “Just like at the waterfall. I don’t know why or what you’re after, but stop –” Her voice faltered. “Stop pretending like you care!” Her voice felt overloud in the softness of the clearing. Pan was glad for her closed eyes to prevent her from seeing the dark look on his face. He hadn’t expected her to give in after only a day, but he hadn’t expected her to be so ornery about it either. He forced his voice back to an even tone. He wasn’t giving up just yet.

“Who says I’m pretending?”


	42. Gesture

Sarah’s eyelids fluttered open. The look on Pan’s face was so earnest that she almost believed him in spite of herself. She stepped back, crossing her arms underneath her chest as she forced her eyes away from his face. “You stuck me in a cage.” She began. Pan opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “You had me chased, shot at, dragged through the jungle. You threw a knife at me! Yesterday you tried to choke me and the week before that you dropped me twice – _twice_ – from a height that if it didn’t kill me, would at least have hurt a whole heck of a lot.” Her voice grew louder as she read off the laundry list of all the ways Pan had shown her exactly how little he cared about her. She shoved her sleeve up, displaying the jaggedly healing cut from where he’d pushed her arm into rock. “You’ve thrown me against rocks. You’ve mocked me for _everything_ I do, pushed all my boundaries, and threatened me constantly with violence and intimidation.” She worried that she might be ratcheting up to another explosive bout of anger so soon after her earlier rage, but as she pressed on, she realised it wasn’t anger that dominated her feelings. It was hurt. “What part of that.” Her voice faltered, and quieted. “What the _hell_ part of that says you care, Peter?”

Pan’s mouth tightened to a grim line as he listened. This was…unexpected. He wasn’t used to being called out for his actions, but under his annoyance at her defiance was the slowly rising understanding that his plan might take a good deal longer than he had anticipated. Because yes, when she put it that way, no objective observer could possibly conclude that he cared – the opposite would be more likely. He took in her tense position, her refusal to look at his face as she accused him. No objective observer could – but Sarah, he knew, was far from objective. “It bothers you.” Sarah turned her eyes up to look at him aghast. Of course it bothered her!  “Thinking I don’t care,” He added. It was a struggle to keep a victorious smile from sliding over his face, but he managed. “Which means you wish that I did, doesn’t it?”

Sarah drew her eyes hurriedly away. “It bothers me that I can hardly go a day without a near-death experience.” She grumbled defensively. She didn’t want to admit to herself that yes, she wanted Pan to care. She had dreamed of places like Neverland her whole life, and to be so constantly rejected, dismissed, treated as though she were nothing but a game – it hurt. She wouldn’t admit it to herself, let alone Pan, but it hurt.

Pan’s brain was spinning quickly, trying to think of a way to turn this around. With an affected sigh, he sat down on the pine needles below them, patting the ground beside him. Sarah looked down at him, suspicious, and shook her head. “I would think you’d enjoy the rest after your morning.” He quipped. It was true, she was tired from the running, walking, and fighting she had done earlier in the day. Even so, Pan’s unusual behaviour was keeping her on the defensive. Pan looked up at her. “Will you sit if I promise I’m not planning to murder your family or whatever it is you’re thinking right now?” Reluctantly, she sank to the ground beside him. The needles were cool beneath her hands, softened by dampness. It reminded her of home, a favourite park she had gone to whenever her odd moods made her particularly restless.

“It’s difficult to lead, you know.” She resented the lightness of his tone. After all she had said, for him to sit there so idly unaffected was a fresh insult which she felt keenly. “You have to prioritise order, whatever your real wishes may be.” Sarah snorted. Was that his excuse? She wasn’t buying it. “And of course, I’m not pretending I’ve cared about you this entire time – what reason could I possibly have to care about a strange girl who landed on my island without my prior knowledge or permission?” Sarah’s hands clenched into fists. He wasn’t exactly helping his case. Pan turned his head to face her, though she shifted her eyes resolutely towards the ground. “Is it so strange to think I might have come to care about you over time?”

Sarah frowned. Why was he so determined to convince her that he cared? He wouldn’t get anything out of it, surely. Was it possible he was being honest? _Yesterday._ She reminded herself. _He tried to suffocate you yesterday, and he wasn’t exactly friendly when you ran into him earlier today, either._ She growled, at Pan or herself she couldn’t say. _Don’t be a fool._

Pan was deciding whether or not to pull out his heavy weaponry. He could tell that Sarah wanted to believe him, even though she didn’t yet. If he tipped his hand too quickly it might seem unbelievable – but now, when her resolve seemed on the edge of faltering, might be too good a chance to pass up. “You scared me, you know.” Sarah’s eyes shot back up from the ground, staring at her companion in disbelief. For once it was Pan who seemed to be avoiding eye contact, staring ahead into the meadow. “After your fight with Lucian.” He picked up a clump of pine needles, fiddling with them in an imitation of nervousness. “Staring down at you all bleary and babbling, not knowing if the Sarah I’d come to-” He faltered.  “I’d come to _know_ would come out the other side.” Sarah frowned.

“You tried to kill me yesterday, Peter.” She narrowed her eyes as he turned back to face her with a plaintive longing on his face. “ _Yesterday._ ” A puff of air escaped his nostrils as his face twitched in an almost-smile.

“I’ll admit,” He told her sheepishly. “I can be…territorial.” He peered at her earnestly. “Wouldn’t you have reacted the same, if you’d found me in your tent?” He was so convincing. How did he do it, she wondered. How did he go from overbearing and terrifying one moment to…whatever this was, the next?

“I wouldn’t have tried to suffocate you.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Pan snorted.

“No, but you might try to burn me alive.”

“This is exactly what I mean!” Sarah snapped. Even when he was trying to make her like him, he couldn’t help but dig at her, prod her, make it sound as though everything were her fault. She moved to a crouch, preparing to stand. “If you decide you want to tell me what this is about,” She sniped. “I’ll be back at camp.” He caught her wrist lightly as she stood. “Let go of me, Peter.”

“Wait.” Instead of an order, his voice was soft and hesitant. After a moment, he reluctantly let her wrist free. Sarah pulled her wrists out of his grasp, clasping her hands behind her back as she stared down at him. Though he couldn’t show it, Pan was getting more than annoyed. She was really going to make him do this, wasn’t she? _You’ll have the power._ He told himself. _Even when she thinks she’s won. Peter Pan never fails._ He cleared his throat as though nervous under Sarah’s glare. “I’m sorry.” He told her, flicking his eyes away from her gaze. “I’m not…I’m not used to this.”

It tugged at her to see Pan, the unbeatable Pan, looking so uncomfortable at her feet. Because of her, if she was to believe him. _Maybe,_ she thought hesitantly, _maybe he’s telling the truth?_ She knew that was impossible, but her face softened even so. “Not used to what?” Her hands relaxed from their parade rest stance, drifting back to her sides as a sick hope fluttered up from her core. It couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real. But she wanted it to be.

“Not used to,” Pan bit his lip, as though the words were a struggle to let out. “Caring.” He crossed his arms as a dark look fell over his face. “I care about the Lost Boys of course, but you’re…” He trailed off. Sarah knelt down carefully, crouching so she was just above the level of his eyes.

“I’m what?” He remained silent. Unsure of why, she found her hand reaching out slowly to catch his face, turning it to towards her as he had done to her so many times before. Taking in the apprehension on his face, her heart began to race. _It’s not real._ The voice seemed to grow quieter with every moment. _It’s a trick._ “What am I, Peter?” She repeated softly. He stared back at her. It seemed to her his own heart was beating faster as well, for the rise and fall of his chest had accelerated.

“Different.” He shifted his eyes down from her face. _Mine._ The defenses were cracked. The cool hand on his face from a girl who flinched away from him at every moment of the day was proof enough of that. He stole a glance back up at her face. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him, didn’t like the softness in her gaze that told him she thought him vulnerable in this moment. He tamped the feeling down. He was still in control here, whatever she thought. He reached his hand up towards where hers rested on his face, fingers brushing over soft skin. Their eyes locked as Pan wrapped his hand around hers, drawing it to rest more fully against the side of his face.  

All at once, Sarah drew her hand back as though she’d been shocked. She blinked. “No.” She said firmly, her face hardened as she snapped out of the odd trance she’d felt herself falling into. “You’re good, Peter.” She accused, the hint of a steely laugh dancing on the ends of her words. “You’re really good.” She stood abruptly. “You really had me going there for a minute - makes me wonder how many times you’ve done this before.” Pan stood just as abruptly. He almost felt like screaming. She’d been so close, he had felt it! What business did she have pulling away from him now?

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?” He demanded. Sarah smiled sardonically at the anger creeping into his voice. _There_ it was. Tell him no, refuse to dance his jig, and the real Pan would come out. She scolded herself for being drawn in even a moment by the demon in angel’s clothing. He wanted to play this game with her? Fine. _Let’s play._

“Prove it.” Pan narrowed his eyes. “You want me to believe you care? Prove it.”

“This _is_ me proving it!” Pan gestured to the meadow. Didn’t she like the meadow? She had, he had seen it in her face. He wasn’t taking any of the Lost Boys up here! Sarah kept her eyes away. The meadow felt tainted now somehow, despite its beauty. “What more do you want, poetry?” Sarah scoffed.

“I don’t want gestures, Peter, I want change. You want me to think you care? Start acting like it. Stop threatening me. Stop insulting me.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why you’re suddenly so bound and determined on this, but if you think a meadow and some puppy dog eyes are all it will take for me to forget everything else that’s happened, you’re wrong.” Pan’s mouth was forming into a tight line. How dare she talk to him like this? Sarah sensed his mood was turning dangerous. She should have been frightened, but more than her fear her pride was at risk. Did he really think she would fall for him so easily? _You almost did_ , her mind needled. She silenced it.

“Or I suppose you can give up before you start, go back to being the bully we both know you are.” Her gaze turned sly. “But then I suppose that would make you a liar, and what was it?” She put on an imitation of his crisp accent. “Lying is like cheating, and cheaters never win.” The next moment found her alone with smoke as Pan, struggling to control his temper and thus risking proving her point, vanished. She snorted. “Round one.” She mused aloud. “Point to Sarah."


	43. Want

It was a good thing for Pan’s thinking tree that the humidity of the jungle kept the ground pervasively damp. Otherwise, with the number of fireballs he had sent hurtling towards the ground in the last few minutes, it would have been in for a very uncomfortable time indeed. This wasn’t how the game was supposed to go. He’d thought changing the nature of their game would have brought him victory in a cinch. Instead, _she_ had the upper hand. Not only had she not given in, as he had expected her to, she had made it so that to reassert his control in his usual way would still be losing. He had been so close, he was sure of it. After all he’d done: acting afraid, vulnerable. Apologising even – him, the leader of the Lost Boys, apologising!

No longer content with fireballs, he picked up a rock and hurled it with all his might against a nearby tree. It scraped at the silvery bark, bright green sap welling up as the rock clattered to the ground. Scowling, Pan began to pace. She wanted change? Fine. He’d show her change. She didn’t know who she was messing with. In a matter of weeks she’d be putty in his hands, and then, when he’d used her connection the island and gotten what he wanted, he would destroy her. She would be sorry she had ever dared to think she held power over him. He glanced down at the rough scab on his wrist. His anger cooled some.

He had changed the game because he wanted to mould her. It shouldn’t surprise him that she wasn’t so weak as to give in to him after only one day, since it was the fact that she challenged him that had caught his attention in the first place. He let out a breath halfway between a sigh and a growl. He hated that she thought she had the upper hand, but reacting the way his temper told him to would only be proving her point. Still, keeping himself in check long enough to earn her trust might prove difficult. He wondered, briefly, if such a thing would even be possible for him. _No._ He told himself cockily. _She might have challenged me, but she’s still nothing but a silly, simpering girl._ A dark smile crept into his eyes. _And Peter Pan never fails._

Sarah waved her hand as the smoke cleared from around her. She turned her eyes back towards the meadow, feeling a tug at her heart that so beautiful a thing should have been part of Pan’s twisted games. _He’s not here now_. She set her mouth in a determined line, a sparkle forming in her eye. Cautiously, she took a step towards the meadow. Then another. Even in her boots, the grass felt lush and full beneath her feet. Carefully, she slipped them and her socks off, wriggling her toes happily in the bright green carpet.

A feeling of joy washed over her as she walked reverently towards the middle of the meadow, mist and lights swirling around her. All thoughts of Pan washed away from her in that moment. There was only her, and the supreme splendour of Neverland. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the cool air. When she opened them again, she laughed. The mist was reaching up from the flowers to curl around her hands, twining between each finger like the hands of an old friend. “I’ve never seen a place so beautiful, Neverland.” The lights around her winked, and she beamed.

When she reached the center of the small field, she knelt by the sparkling stream. It was only a little thing, but it burbled merrily with all the energy of a large and rushing river. “That’s right.” Sarah told it proudly. “Rush right on, however small you are.” A droplet of water leapt up to land on her cheek. She dipped her fingers into the water, feeling the current bat against them. With a sigh of contentment, she lay back into the grass and flowers.  She stared up into the bright sky through the gap in the pine trees, feeling for once entirely at peace. No one chasing her. No one mocking her. Her heart twisted ever so slightly. No one making her feel odd things she had no business feeling. She felt in that moment as though she could stay there forever.

Some time later, she stood. She wanted to see every detail of the meadow, starting with its unusually coloured flowers. She lost track of time, or whatever passed for time in Neverland, as she knelt to examine each flower. The scents were heavenly, foreign yet with a strange familiarity she couldn’t quite place. Each petal was a tiny work of art, from the velvety teal hues of the clustered, hyacinth-like flowers to the slick shine of the spine-like plants in a colour that was not quite purple. She felt as she had not since she was very much younger, as though she were a fairy princess in a garden of loyal and beautiful subjects. She murmured to each flower as she examined it.  

Pan watched her odd behaviour with a grim expression. He had returned to camp once he had calmed down, expecting to find her there already. When no one had seen her, he had reached out over the island to learn she was right where he had left her. As she stood from examining a flower, running her fingers over it lightly as though it were a cherished friend, he spoke up at last. “So you _do_ like it.” Sarah turned slowly, still wrapped in the tranquility of the meadow. Pan’s annoyance was clear on his face, more so because that annoying, uncomfortable feeling was stirring up in his stomach again.

“I did.” Sarah answered him calmly. “Until you showed up again.” She walked towards another flower. Pan frowned.

“It’s time-” He paused, smoothing the command from his voice. “Will you come back to camp?” Sarah peered at him curiously. She hadn’t expected that Pan might actually try to change, or at least make a show of changing. The slightest of smiles played at the corner of her lips as she tilted her head to the side.

“What if I say no?” Even from where she stood she could see the dark flash in Pan’s eyes, the twitch of a scowl. Then, to her surprise and amusement, he smoothed his face to a neutral expression.

“If that’s what you want.” Did she detect a bit of tension in his jaw? “I won’t make you.” With the barest laugh, Sarah walked towards her boots and socks, sitting on the grass to pull them back over their feet.

“Then I’ll go.” Thinking of their game of capture the flag the day before, she smiled. “There.” She mimicked.  “Was that so hard?”

When they returned to camp, Sarah practically flounced away from him. She didn’t know how long this attempt of his would last, and a part of her needled that when he gave it up, she would be in for it. But for now, she was going to milk every second of it. Scanning for her friends around the fires, she plopped herself down next to Rasheed. He made a face.

“Well,” Arthur said brightly. “Someone looks cheerful.” Sarah, digging into a freshly imagined supper, grinned.

“The game has changed.” She said ruefully. “And this time, I think I just might be winning.” Arthur, Xavier, and Rasheed exchanged looks.

“Beating Pan is impossible.” Rasheed declared. He lifted his brows. “And if anyone were to accomplish it, you would be last on the list.” Sarah ruffled his hair affectionately, much to his displeasure. Not even Rasheed’s cutting remarks could interfere with the hope she felt having beaten Pan just once, even temporarily, at his own game.

“We’ll see.” She told him, a sparkle in her eye. Arthur watched her with concern. When she caught his gaze, she scrunched her forehead in a questioning look.

“Just…” Arthur looked off to the side. As a Lost Boy, he was loyal to Pan. But Sarah was as good as one of them – and that made him loyal to her, too. “Be careful.” Sarah blinked. Then, she nodded.

“I know.” Her voice was more somber. “It can’t last.” She glanced at him sidelong. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy it while I can!”

“It’s not fair.” Xavier’s tone was practically whining. Arthur lightly kissed the top of his head to comfort him, but he wouldn’t be put off. “You actually beat Pan at something, when you can’t even beat me at wrestling? Or sword fighting?”

“I feel pretty invincible right now.” Sarah admitted. It was true. She grinned at Xavier from across the fire, setting her dinner aside. “So why don’t you try me? Maybe I’ll surprise you.” Xavier leapt up from the log, always eager to roughhouse, but Arthur pulled him back down. He shot Sarah an annoyed glance.

“Let’s wait until after dinner for the brawling, shall we?” Laughing, Sarah nodded, though Xavier seemed somewhat sulky. She wanted to change the subject, but recalling that Xavier had ended up Nibs’ captive in the game today, she doubted asking him about his exploits would put her young friend in a better mood.  “Loto, join us.” Sarah turned to look at the boy who’d broken his deal with her earlier. Her good mood started to fade away as he sat down with them.

“Looks like a tie today, Xavier.” Sarah noted the spark that flashed in Xavier’s eyes as Loto spoke to him. “Though I _did_ get caught by Felix…you only got caught by Nibs.” Xavier’s eyes narrowed.

“I’d have caught _you_ if I’d gotten to you first!” He insisted.

“If you don’t look out,” Sarah interjected. “ _I’m_ going to catch you next time, deal-breaker.” She levelled the boy with a hard stare. He smiled beatifically.

“ _I_ didn’t catch you. Felix did.” Arthur raised his eyes in amusement as Xavier practically bounced from his seat.

“You made a deal?” Xavier demanded. “With _him_?” Arthur would whisper to her some time later that a mostly-friendly rivalry had existed between Loto and Xavier almost since the day Loto had set foot on the island. For now, Sarah assumed Xavier’s disbelief meant this was not the first deal Loto had broken.

“I can assure you, I came to regret the decision.” Loto glanced at her sidelong, still curious about the girl Felix had let himself be captured by. He hadn’t thought much of what he had seen of her before, but maybe there was something he didn’t know.

“How did you get free from the lead rope?” Sarah looked off to the side. If she told them she had used magic, they might ask more questions. She had managed to forget for a time the spectacular manner in which she’d lost control of herself earlier. Days felt so long on Neverland, and her shameful action in almost killing, or at least seriously injuring, Lucian was already beginning to feel far away. Her stomach churned with remembered shame. Well. Perhaps not _that_ far away.

“It’s a secret.” She said at last. Rasheed’s penetrating gaze bore into her. He’d had a feeling ever since the dagger incident that the girl was not all that she appeared. As the days had turned over and she showed no further signs of being anything other than a terrible hand for thrown weapons, melee combat, and a variety of other vital Lost One skills, he had let the feeling rest. Now, his wonderings returned. “Anyway, it’s not like it did either of us any good.” Sarah grumbled. “Since Felix still ended up winning the game.”

“Not being a sore loser,” A familiar drawl washed over the group. “Are you little bird?” Inexplicably, Sarah felt her heart speed up as she tilted her head upwards to look at the blonde giant. Something fluttered in her stomach as the fire danced over his sharp features, and she scolded herself. What was the matter with her? One brief conversation in the woods and she was going melty over someone who was as good as an extension of Pan? Well, maybe not just one conversation. He’d helped her on more than one occasion since she’d arrived on the island, she recalled now. _And he also put you in a cage, tackled you, tied you up…do I really need to go on?_ She knew she was being ridiculous, and she told her heartbeat as much.

Arthur motioned for Felix to join him, but the tall boy only shrugged. “I’m just her to deliver a message to our little Lost Girl.” Though his tone was light, she could sense the delicate wrapping of a threat winding over his words. When he didn’t speak again, Sarah stood and stepped towards him, away from the fire. He dropped his voice low so the others couldn’t hear. “Listen up, Lost Girl.” His steady gaze bore into her. He’d just come from an interesting chat with his leader, and if he wanted the relative peace in camp to remain, he’d decided he would have to take matters into his own hands. “If you go against Pan, you will fail.”

Sarah blinked. She could never be certain how much Felix knew or did not know about his leader’s plans, but his statements confirmed one thing for her: Whatever the reason for Pan’s strange behaviour, it was in fact still part of the game. “If he wants you, he will get you.”

“What?” Felix shot her a look as the other boys perked up their ears. In her surprise she had forgotten to be quiet. She lowered her voice again. “What do you mean, “want me”?” She hissed. “I’m already on the island and he made it very clear that I’m not leaving, doesn’t he already have me?”

Felix lifted his brows. “Why don’t you think about it.” Sarah growled as he turned, disappearing into the night. _I’m glad for the reminder_. She told herself. _That he is infuriating!_ When she rejoined the other boys, her mood was dour. Her companions exchanged glances, each wondering if another would be bold enough to ask her what Felix had said. They wouldn’t get the opportunity. “We’ll wrestle tomorrow, Xavier.” She announced as she stood. “I’m going to bed.” She turned Felix’s words over as she returned to her tent. Scowling – what did he mean, if Pan wanted her? – she took off her boots and threw herself angrily onto her pallet. Her questions kept her tossing and turning despite her exhaustion for what felt like hours, until eventually her tired body overrode her brain and numbed her into blissful, unthinking sleep.


	44. Try

By the time she awoke the next morning, camp was already bustling with activity. Her difficulty in falling asleep the night before meant she had slept late despite her early departure from the group, and she could hear various and sundry of the Lost Boys clattering about outside her tent. With a groan – she still felt groggy – she sat up and fumbled for her boots. She had hoped her brain might leave off its worries from the night before after sleeping, but this proved to be in vain. She was preoccupied as she left her tent, wandering towards the center of camp.

She was so preoccupied, she didn’t notice until too late the red-headed missile speeding towards her. She fell to the ground with a shout, clawing wildly at her attacker until she saw his face. “Xavier, you hellion!” Xavier grinned.

“You said we’d fight in the morning.” He informed her happily, rolling the two over so he was looking down at her. “It’s morning.” With an aggravated growl, Sarah’s hands scrambled at him, pinching hard at the cluster of muscle and tendon connecting his neck to his shoulder. He let her go with a cry of protest, and she pressed her advantage to reverse their positions. “That’s a dirty trick.” He grumbled.

“So is having at least ten extra pounds of solid muscle on me.” She told him primly. “Let that teach you to attack people before they’ve eaten breakfast.” Xavier narrowed his eyes as she rolled off of him.

“You’re cranky this morning.” He accused as the two stood up. Sarah frowned as she dusted the dirt from her clothes. She _was_ feeling out of sorts, but she didn’t think she’d take kindly to being tackled as her first activity upon waking on any day of the week. Xavier’s glance turned sly. “Is it something to do with what Felix told you last night?” He winced as Arthur appeared behind him, cuffing him gently on the head.

“Aren’t you the one who told me not to get involved with Felix’s business?” He scolded. “Morning Sarah. Nice to see you in the daylight without having to chase after you, for once.” He was joking, but Sarah scowled anyway. Perhaps she was cranky this morning after all. Felix’s cryptic clue was a puzzle she couldn’t solve, and it rankled. She was already stuck on the island, she even stayed in camp willingly. Pan “had” her, for all intents and purposes, and there was little to no chance she’d be getting away any time soon, if ever. He had told her at the start that they were trying to break each other. Is that what Felix had meant? By wanting her, he meant wanted her broken? If that was the case, his warning hardly seemed useful. If Pan’s win condition was breaking her, it wouldn’t matter if going against him meant she would fail. She’d have no choice either way!

Of course, there was another meaning to the word want. _No_. The idea was too ridiculous to entertain, even with Pan’s odd behavior yesterday. He couldn’t possibly _want_ her, not like that. Could he? Something halfway between excitement and disgust twisted in her stomach. If he didn’t, though, why would Felix have said he did? _Maybe Pan put him up to it,_ she mused. This had to be just another part of Pan’s game. To make her think he cared about her, and then – and then something, she wasn’t sure what. Break her heart? She’d gotten over boys before. That seemed too trivial for him. 

“Sarah?” She snapped back to the present, blinking. Arthur was looking at her with concern, Xavier with confusion.

“Sorry. Lost in thought.” She shook her head, brushing aside her friend’s worries. “Breakfast?” She tried to change the subject.

“Eat quickly.” She startled as Pan’s crisp voice reached her ears, striding through camp to stand amidst their group. The two boys shuffled automatically to the side, making space for their leader. “It’s already late and we’ve got plans for the day.” Sarah glanced nervously at her companions, then back to Pan.

“What plans?” She asked cautiously. Pan smiled, and a familiar trickle of panic crept up over her. Perhaps he’d abandoned his plans from yesterday already – in which case, she’d be in for it today.

“You’ll see after breakfast.” He told her smoothly. “Boys.” With nods exchanged, he left them, sweeping off to his next piece of business.

“So…” Xavier broke the silence. “Pan seems to spend a lot of time with you?” Sarah sighed painfully. She could tell he was bristling with curiosity, but she certainly didn’t have any answers to give him.

“Let’s just eat.”

She wouldn’t quite have said she was stalling as she savoured each bite of her breakfast, relishing in the joy of eating not on the run or in a rush. It was so nice not to be thrown headlong into one of Pan’s games from the instant she woke up, and though she had the feeling it would very quickly come to an end, for now she enjoyed her peace. She took so long that by the time she finished and stood, Pan was leaning on a nearby tree to wait for her, scowling. “I said _quickly_.” He told her darkly as he pushed himself off of the trunk. Sarah shrugged. Irritation twitched at the corners of his mouth, but he smoothed it. She caught the motion, and wondered if he was still trying to pretend he’d changed after all.

“So, what are we doing today?” She needled. He didn’t like questions, or sass, and she was planning to use his response to both to gauge her danger level. She felt grimly amused to put it in those terms, like a pollen level or a weather report. _Today’s Pan: Mostly irritating with a 30% chance of pain._ When he didn’t respond, she pressed on. “Walking me over a fire? Throwing me off a cliff? I know exploiting my fear of heights is a favourite pastime of yours.” Pan frowned at first, but then transitioned to an easy smile with a puff of air through his nostrils.

“I told you why I do that, Sarah.” His voice was earnest. “It’s important for a leader to keep control – otherwise his people might get hurt from not following orders.” He caught her eyes in a soft gaze. “And since I thought you were going to be just another one of my Lost Boys, I had to make sure you would listen to me.” Sarah raised her eyebrows skeptically.  A look of regret crossed his face. “You don’t believe me. I understand.” He nodded. “I’ve been very hard on you, haven’t I Sarah?” Her eyebrows went higher. “Walk with me.”

Somewhat curious about this latest maneuver, Sarah followed after him as he walked into the jungle. He gestured with his hands as he talked. “You see, I see so much in you, Sarah. I only wanted to bring it out, but I can see now how wrong I was to treat you the way I did.” He stopped, turning to face her with a heartfelt look of contrition. “I hope, in time, you can forgive me.” Her eyebrows moved down now, peering at him in suspicion. He was a good actor, she’d give him that, yet even in his apology an air of arrogance hung about him.

“What are we doing today?” She repeated. “If you aren’t planning some fresh way to torment me?” Pan furrowed his brows as though confused at her continued suspicion.

“I thought you might like to see more of the island.” He smiled gently. Her stomach fluttered, and she scolded it angrily to stop. After almost falling for his act yesterday, she wasn’t inclined to do so today. “Since you enjoyed the meadow so much.” The barest hint of a mischievous twinkle danced in his eye. “And then I thought we’d work on your magic.” Sarah’s face went to stone.

“No.”

He frowned. “No? And here I thought you liked magic – after all, didn’t you tell me you’d been searching for a magical place your whole life?” Though his tone was light, she could hear the edge creeping back into it.

Sarah answered him with a glare. “You know very well why I don’t want to use my magic.” Yesterday she hadn’t even been angry at any particular thing when she’d started, and look where it had gotten her. If Pan thought she was going to try and get herself into that state on purpose a second time, he was dead wrong. Pan laughed warmly.

“What if I teach you something other than fire? A protection spell maybe.”

Sarah blinked. Did he know how to cast those? That seemed…oddly non-destructive for him. “That sounds,” She hesitated. “Fine.” Pan grinned.

“Good. Really good.” He turned back around with a renewed energy. “Come on then Lost Girl! We’ve got a lot of ground to cover!” Sarah followed after him slowly, turning over his behaviours in her head. Ahead, with his face beyond Sarah’s eyesight, Pan smirked. He really had to hand it to Felix, this was working much better than he’d expected. Ordinarily he might have been annoyed that someone else’s idea worked so much better than his own, particularly since he prided himself on his ability to manipulate people. In the case of this particular target he might have wondered too, were it anyone else, how they came to have such a good understanding of her. But if he could be sure of anyone, it was Felix.

“So where are we going?” Sarah’s voice piped up from behind him, interrupting his thoughts. The long silence as they walked had begun to grate on her, as had her inability to answer any of the questions her mind kept gnawing over.

“Somewhere I think you’ll like.” Pan called back. She frowned. That wasn’t an answer. And aside from that, what made him think he knew what she liked or didn’t like? _He did pretty well with the meadow yesterday_ , a borderline traitorous part of her mind reflected. Meadow aside, she’d spent a good deal of time running around Neverland since she arrived. Usually in a panic, but even so she didn’t think there could be all that many parts of the island she hadn’t seen yet.

“Is it far?”

“Depends how you travel.” Sarah scrunched her face in confusion. What did that mean? Pan stopped so abruptly she almost ran in to him. He turned around with a bright twinkle in his eye. “Do you trust me?” Sarah shook her head vehemently.

“Not a bit.” She took a step backwards, but he closed the gap between them. “What are you doing?” She demanded. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Try.” Pan whispered, and the two rose from the jungle floor.

“Peter!” Sarah all but shrieked. “Put me down! You said we _weren’t_ tormenting me with heights today.”

“I’m not going to drop you.” Pan had to lift his voice over the rush of wind. “I promise.” Sarah kicked at him.

“I don’t believe you!” Her eyes wrenched shut as she tried to calm the panic rising up in her. Stupid, stupid! She had let Pan’s odd behavior put her off guard, and now she was going to suffer the consequences.

“Just calm down.” Sarah let out a sound halfway between a growl and a whine, fear and anger battling out for dominance in her throat. “You’re safe.” That was the biggest lie she had ever heard, she was sure of it. Her throat felt too tight to speak, however, so she fumed in silence, waiting any moment for the feeling of free-fall she dreaded so much. Instead, she felt her feet touch soft ground only a few moments later. “We’re here.” She unfurled her eyes slowly.

They were standing on a beach, though not one she had seen on the island yet. A few scrubby trees clung where the sand mixed with the mud of the jungle, exposed roots twining downwards in search of soil. The sand was thin here, she could see several places where the island’s bedrock jutted out. To their left, it lay exposed in a wide plain, beyond which lay a sloping cliff dotted with pine trees. She guessed that was where they had been yesterday. To their right, beach and jungle continued, dipping around a corner she could not see. She didn’t realise she was still clinging to Pan until he slowly unwrapped his arms from around her. When he did, she took a large step away. Her face felt warm all over, and Pan smirked.

Sarah turned from the beautiful scene with a huff, not wanting to admit that she did, in fact, like it. With a brief pang of longing for the stark majesty of all that gloriously exposed bedrock, she began to walk back into the jungle. “Where are you going?” Pan demanded. He appeared in front of her with an irate look.

“Somewhere away from you.” She told him tartly. Pan frowned. She hadn’t caught on to him already, had she? “Where I know my feet will stay firmly on the ground.” Pan’s face relaxed into a smile. The jig was not up yet.

“You’re not mad about a little flying, are you?” She narrowed her eyes at him in a glare. Apparently she was. The smile twitched downward as Pan struggled to keep the irritation from his face. The move failed. “I said I wouldn’t drop you.”

“Your word doesn’t exactly carry a lot of weight with me, Peter.” Pan narrowed his eyes.

“I _always_ keep my promises.” Sarah scoffed.

“When it suits you, maybe. Pro tip, Peter,” Her tone became sardonically bright. “When you care about someone, one of the things you do is _ask_ them before you carry them off someplace.” Pan scowled. “And one of the things you _don’t_ do is haul them one hundred feet in the air when you know they’re afraid of heights!” Pan bit back a growl. Clearly he had surrendered whatever ground he had made in putting her off-guard.  Why was she acting like this over a measly little flight? Most people would love to soar above the trees, yet she was acting as incensed as if he had dropped her again.

“Fine.” Pan had reached his limit of patience for the day. “Go back to camp then. I’ll enjoy the wonders of the island myself, since you can’t seem to appreciate them.” Sarah’s mouth twitched upwards in the barest hint of a smirk. It sounded an awful lot as though the unbeatable Pan, the fearsome leader of the Neverland Lost Boys, was sulking. This was too good to pass up.

“I think I will.” She said slowly. “I’ll find another guide, maybe. One I can stand to be around, with a basic understanding of how people are meant to interact with each other.” He grabbed her wrist as she pushed past him, and she stopped. When she drew her eyes back up to his, her breath hitched. His eyes were dark, his grip vice-like, and she winced. _I think we miscalculated_. If he had decided to give up pretending to care, she could be really in for it now. She swallowed hard.

 “Don’t toy with me, Lost Girl.” His voice was low and steely. He pulled her closer till their faces were mere inches apart. Sarah stared back at him, eyes hard.

“I’m not the one who treats people like playthings.” A flicker of pain crossed her face as his hand clenched even tighter around her wrist. Seeing it, he loosened his grip with a frown. Sarah took her wrist back into her other hand, rubbing it gingerly. She gazed at him accusingly. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Peter, but I’m not as dumb as you seem to think I am.” Pan’s eyes narrowed. “If your new game really is pretending to care about me,” She scoffed. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder than this.” She waved her wrist in the air for effect before turning away again, continuing her path into the dense foliage of the jungle.

Pan stared after her, face hard, as he reflected on the difficulty of this new challenge he had laid for himself. _I’m starting to see that_.


	45. Willow

As she walked back towards camp, Sarah reflected that she wasn’t sure what part of this whole thing irritated her most: That she didn’t know why he was doing it, that he seemed to think she would fall for it in a snap, or that he was doing it at all. A quiet part of her suggested she wouldn’t mind him pretending to care so much if he only he were capable of keeping up the act. When an even quieter part of her suggested that she was bothered by his pretending to care because it proved that he really didn’t, she pinched herself to shut her brain up. _Focus on getting back to camp._ Even if she’d left the most dangerous thing on the island behind her, that didn’t mean every part of the jungle was safe.

Glancing down at the needle of her compass, she frowned. Hadn’t it been pointing the other direction just a moment ago? She didn’t think she had changed directions. Then again, she had been preoccupied. She changed course to follow the arrow. She hadn’t gone far when the arrow moved again. She stopped walking. Was it broken? She banished the doubts from her mind. The compass was made from belief, and she didn’t want to risk it fading away in her hands. With a growing feeling of unease, she changed course to follow the arrow.

At first she thought it was her imagination that the jungle seemed to be getting darker around her. It was still morning after all, and the trees weren’t that much thicker. Soon, however, it became difficult to see where she was going. She brought the compass up to her face, squinting in the half-light to check the direction of the needle. According to the compass, she was on the right track. Was this why Pan had flown them over? She would have appreciated an explanation, but perhaps he’d made the right call after all. She heard a rustling close by, and jumped. No matter how hard she squinted, she couldn’t make out anything moving. _Maybe I should just turn back._ She thought. _I’ll find a way around…whatever this is._ A cold breeze blew against her cheek. “No.” She whispered. The dark sucked up the sound. “No, I’m not going to let a little darkness frighten me.”

Squaring her shoulders, she pushed on. _Sarah._ Sarah jumped, her head darting around dramatically. Though it had only been a few days since she had heard the island’s voice, it felt like far longer. “N-Neverland?” She winced at the fear trickling through her voice. _I’m here, Sarah. Come to me._ Hesitantly, she took a step forward. _Close your eyes._ Her eyelids fluttered shut. It didn’t make much of a difference in what she could see. No, that wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t see the jungle anymore, but behind her eyelids something was starting to take shape. A dull, misty outline formed behind her eyes, and the oddest feeling took over her body, as though she were floating. _Don’t be afraid, Sarah._ The voice comforted. _My dreamer._

Sarah’s eyelids twitched in confusion. Pan was “the other dreamer”, but…her? A dreamer? She still wasn’t sure what that even meant. A trickle of laughter rang inside her head. _I wish I could make you remember. But here, between dreaming and waking, I may not._ Sarah furrowed her brows, trying to make sense of what the island was telling her. _Embrace your belief, Sarah. And soon, you will know what needs to be done._

Sarah’s eyelids fluttered open as the voice faded from her mind. Somehow, she was on the other side of whatever strange dark place she had walked through, though she didn’t remember moving while she spoke with the island. Her brows remained pinched in a tight furrow as she turned over the conversation in her head. Now she had even more questions than she’d had when she got up this morning. She knew who “the dreamer” was now – apparently it was her – but she still had no idea what that meant. And as for knowing what needed to be done, how would she figure that out? What did it mean to “embrace her belief”? Frustrated, she sat down on a nearby stone. Picking up a stick, she began to trace the ground as she gnawed at the endless puzzle of knots that made up her time on Neverland.

She remembered, when she thought about it, how the island had hummed all around her when she’d wondered what it could be if she turned her imagination on it. Was that it? Somehow, the island wanting a new look seemed a bit too simple. Still, maybe it was a start. She looked around her at the dark, dense foliage of the jungle. It was nice in its own way, but also a bit frightening. There was no way to know whether something – or someone – was lurking behind the plants. Its seemingly endless nature was another point against it, she thought. When she compared it with other places she’d seen on the island – the rocky beach, the pine forest, the meadow – she thought it could use a bit of enhancement to break up the monopoly.

So what if she changed that? She wondered if she even could. She had imagined objects into being, sure. And she had even changed one of those objects, from ladder to vine. But could she change things that were already there? She might was well try. She stood, walking to one of the trees. Gently, she rested her fingers over its smooth bark. “I’d like to try something different.” She told it softly. She couldn’t say why, but it felt wrong to change the tree without asking it first, or at least giving it a warning. The bark warmed beneath her hand in response. She hoped that was permission. Closing her eyes, she pictured something as far from the frightening jungle foliage as she could. A tall, sweeping willow, with coarse tuning-fork bark and gently swaying tendrils of jewel-green leaves. She remembered afternoons lounging on a carpet of periwinkle and soft grass, staring at the sun dappling through the branches like a rain of hazy gold.

A light branch whipped across her face. She opened her eyes with a shout of delight to see that where several dense jungle trees and bushes had stood, an elegant willow held their place. The ground-cover had changed too, to newly growing grass and the deep, glossy green of periwinkle vines. Forgetting her morning’s stresses, she pulled herself joyfully up into the tree’s welcoming branches. Resting her back against the trunk, she closed her eyes. “If this is what you want me to do, Neverland.” A gentle smile flowed across her face. “I’ll do it gladly.”

She stayed there a long time, enjoying the soft rushing sound of a breeze through the hanging tendrils of willow leaves. She was just starting to think, regretfully, that she should probably head back to camp soon, when a familiar mock-cheerful voice reached her ear. “Well now this is a surprise.” Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced down. It was odd to be above Felix for once, though even from her vantage point in the tree the top of his head was not so very far from her.  “Can’t say I remember any willow trees in this part of the jungle.” Though his face looked bored, she could hear the lightest hint of a question in his voice.

Should she tell him? He had seemed somewhat surprised when she imagined the dagger, though perhaps that was more the surprise that she’d dared to attack him with it. He was the one who’d told her how to believe things into being in the first place. Still, it seemed odd that the other boys didn’t seem to believe anything into being but food. She weighed the explanations in her head. It was possible they all could believe other things, but that Pan had put a prohibition on it. If that were the case, she didn’t think it would be wise to tell his lieutenant.

They might also have the ability and just not use it, but that seemed odd to her given how excitable some of the boys could be. Surely Xavier would have imagined himself a whole bevy of swords, not just the battered one he was so fond of. And of course, it could be that she was able to believe in a way they couldn’t – her connection to the island was unusual, if Pan’s reaction was anything to go by. So perhaps she was “different” after all.

“Neverland is a strange place.” She said at last, deciding discretion was her best course of action. Felix raised his eyebrows, skeptical. She merely shrugged. “Did Pan send you out to find me, or am I just unlucky today?” A lazy smile split Felix’s face.

“And here I thought you were calling him “Peter” these days.” Sarah frowned, eyes narrowing at the blonde Lost Boy. Just how much _did_ Pan share with him? “I see you didn’t take my advice.” His tone turned more serious, though the false cheer still pervaded it. “Since Pan did send me out, as it happens. Seems you’ve made him mighty irritated.”

“He’s the one who changed the rules.” Sarah told him defiantly. “It’s not my fault he’s bad at playing by them.” Her brows furrowed as a worry popped up in her head. “Wait, if he’s mad then why did he send you out after me?” She drew her head back in suspicion. “If you’re here to stick me in the cages again or something, I’m not coming down from this tree.” Felix looked off to the side, chuckling.

“He just didn’t want to see you, little bird. But, when he realised you were sitting still in the middle of the jungle, he figured one of us should come find you.” He smile balefully. “Make sure you hadn’t tripped and broken something. Or been mauled by a jaguar.” Felix turned his gaze back up to her. “Guess you could say he was worried about you.”

Sarah raised her brows, skeptical. “Pan feed you that line?” His lack of response told her probably, yes. “Don’t tell me he’s got you in on this too.” Felix shrugged.

“Pan works in mysterious ways.” Sarah laughed in disbelief.

“They say that about God, Felix.” She chortled. “Not Pan.” She looked down her nose at Felix, enjoying the feeling of being above him for once instead of craning her neck to look him in the eye. Her voice took on a bored tone. “As it happens, you can tell Pan I’m perfectly fine – I simply don’t feel like going back to camp right now.” Felix snorted.

“I don’t believe I said you had a choice.” Sarah’s gaze turned condescending. What was he going to do from down there?

She had forgotten that Felix had spiders somewhere in his family tree. She yelped as in a flash he was on the branch beside her. How he’d managed to get up there so quickly, and with his club still in hand besides, she could never guess. “This will be a lot easier if you go down yourself, little bird.” Sarah knew a threat when she heard one. She glared at the boy, annoyed to lose to him yet again.

“Fine.” She said at last. “You go down first, and I’ll follow.” Felix jumped from the branch, landing softly on the forest floor. _Show-off_. She grumbled to herself. Turning herself around to begin her climb down, she leaned her forehead against the trunk. “Goodbye.” She whispered. She hoped Felix wasn’t watching her, but after the tree had let itself be transformed and held her weight up for however long she’d been resting there, it felt wrong to leave without a word. “Thank you.” She swung an arm around the trunk as if to support herself, blocking Felix from view as she pressed her other hand first to her lips, then to the bark. Then, with a nod, she climbed down.

Felix was waiting with raised brows at the bottom. “Talking to trees now, little bird?” Sarah flushed.

“They’re better conversationalists than you!” She huffed, trying to cover her embarrassment. A stifled sound came from Felix’s throat. When she glared up at him, amusement sparkled in his eye. Her stomach turned over most unwelcomely, and she hurriedly turned away. “Let’s get back to camp.”

“Whatever you say,” Felix drawled. “Tree-kisser.”


	46. Ridiculous

After about ten minutes of silence, Sarah could no longer bear brooding over how he must be laughing at her in his head. _Not that I care especially what he thinks._ She told herself sternly. _I just hate to be laughed at by anyone._ Perhaps if she said it enough, she could convince herself. With the goal of knocking whatever he was thinking from his head, she broke the silence. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me what Pan’s up to if I ask nicely, would you?” She thought she heard a snort from ahead. Irritation crept into her voice. “Your hint last night wasn’t exactly helpful.”

“Well, I was starting to think you were clever.” Felix called back. “But if you can’t figure that one out, you might just be even stupider than I thought.” Sarah growled. Where did he get off claiming she was stupid? She bet he’d never even finished high school, if they even had high school when he was taken to Neverland. Depending on how old he really was, he might not even know the sun was at the center of the solar system, or about evolution! And there was no way he knew about plate tectonics. Well, there was one small comfort for her at any rate: she might not understand his infuriatingly cryptic clues, but at least she could trounce him in probably any academic subject. Stupid indeed.

“Who was better?” Felix interrupted her silent fuming. “Pan or the tree?”

“ _What_?” Her fuming was silent no longer. She was mad enough about the kiss as it was, that Pan had told Felix somehow made it even worse. She stopped in her tracks. After a few steps of not hearing her crash around behind him, Felix stopped too. He turned towards her with a lazy grin on his face. Sarah glared at him furiously. “I can’t believe he – what do you two do, swap notes at the end of the day? Don’t you have anything better to do?” Felix shrugged.

“No need to get upset.” His voice was gratingly cheerful. “I’m just trying to give you another hint.” Sarah narrowed her eyes, then widened them.

“If you’re suggesting…” His smile dripped condescension. “No.” She said firmly. “That’s too ridiculous Felix, even for you.”

“Now Sarah,” Felix painted his face with a mock sincerity almost good enough to rival Pan’s. _Maybe they practice it while they’re swapping notes about how to humiliate me,_ she fumed.  “Would I lie to you?”

“You told the Lost Boys Pan sleeps on a bed made out of skulls!” Felix peered at her as though in confusion.

“And you know he doesn't. You’ve slept in his bed, and you _still_ think I’m lying?” He whistled. “It’s strange, to think you of all people would have trouble ­ _believing_ something that’s right before your eyes.” Sarah glowered, her face hot. It’s not like she’d had a choice about that, Pan had knocked her out with a sleeping spell. _A totally unnecessary one_ , her mind added. _I would have gotten up just fine if he’d given me a minute._ She probably would have. Or not. Perhaps it had been for the best that he’d magicked her to sleep after all, since there was no way she could have fallen asleep in his tent on her own. She’d have been too anxious. She wondered if he knew that, if that’s why he had done it. In a way, that could almost be seen as, well, sweet. _No._ She told herself reproachfully. _He probably did it because he didn’t want to deal with me anymore or – or something._ Annoyed at this new direction of her thoughts, she turned her attention to scowling at Felix.

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk.” Felix smiled, tilting his head towards her with narrowed eyes.

“I aim to displease.” Despite what she had said, she realised with a surprise that she liked the way he talked. Even when the words he was saying were infuriating. There was something about the way he spaced his words, as though each one were carefully selected. Sarah looked away.

“Even if – _if_ – what you’re saying is true, it doesn’t matter.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t like him.” Maybe, when she had first come to the island, she had hoped that the beautiful boy king would like her. But now…now, after everything he had done, she would never let herself be taken in by him. Even if. Even if a part of her still wanted to be.

“Everyone does sooner or later.” Sarah regarded him carefully. Who did he mean by everyone? An unpleasant knot was forming in her stomach over the thought that she was not the first girl Pan had played such a game with, though she knew that was a ridiculous way to feel. Though if there _had_ been others…where were they now? Felix was still watching her, face as smooth as stone. What she wouldn’t give to put him off-guard. She tilted her head up and to the side. It was impossible to look down on someone so much taller than her, but she tried to replicate the effect as best she could.

“Even you?” She asked primly. “Am I intruding on someone else’s territory?” Felix gave her a patronising smile.

“He’s not my type.” She reflected that he’d said the same thing about her, and wondered just who “his type” might be. For purely curiosity reasons, of course. After a long silence, she broke off eye contact, glancing to the jungle floor beside them.

“Well he’s not my type either.”

 Felix chuckled quietly. “Whatever you say, tree-kisser.” She snapped her eyes back up in a glare. “Whatever you say.” He turned around and resumed their course to camp. Reluctantly, Sarah followed after him.

“The tree.” She grumbled, mostly to herself. “Definitely the tree.” Ahead, Felix smiled.

Felix left her without a word when they returned to camp, something she told herself she was more than happy about. While she went to her tent – he said she had to come back to camp, but he didn’t say she had to be out and about in it – he went to report to his leader. When he ducked into Pan’s tent, the occupant was glowering at a small knife suspended from one of the tent poles. The cord was tied into a pendant, but he could tell from the ends that it had been broken before. When he looked closer, he realised he recognised the knife – it was the one Sarah had used to threaten Zach with during the first game of capture the flag. He had wondered then where it had come from, but he now had a pretty good idea.

Pan’s eyes darted sharply to his second-in-command. “Well?” He demanded. She’d been sitting in the middle of the jungle, not moving at all, for at least an hour. Every time he’d checked, she’d been in the same spot. Was she hurt? Brooding? Crying? He hoped it was the latter. It would serve her right, after the way she’d acted earlier.

“She was relaxing in a tree.” Felix told him dryly. Pan frowned. That wasn’t what he had wanted at all. “A willow tree.” Pan’s eyes turned hard.

“There aren’t any willow trees in that part of the jungle.” In fact, he wasn’t certain there were willow trees anywhere in the jungle. They took up so much space. Felix stared back at him silently, his brows ever so slightly lifted. “No.” Pan shook his head. “That’s impossible. Only _I_ get to change Neverland that way.” He glared at the knife now as if it were a snake. Suddenly, he snapped his eyes towards his lieutenant. “ _What_ is so funny, Felix?” To the casual observer, Felix’s face looked no different than it did any other day. Pan knew better.

“Nothing.” His laconic deputy drawled. “Nothing at all.”

Pan rolled his eyes. “Don’t be cute with _me_ , Felix. I’ve known you too long.”

Felix shrugged. He looked off to the side, then back to Pan. “I just think you’ve got your work cut out for you, is all.” Pan narrowed his eyes. Was Felix, his most loyal Lost Boy, actually doubting him? As if he could tell what his leader was thinking, the blonde smiled. “Oh, you’ll get there.” The two locked eyes. “Peter Pan never fails. But…” He glanced towards the knife. “She’s certainly proving to be interesting.” Pan followed his gaze, jaw clenched.

“She is at that.”


	47. Pretending

About an hour later, Sarah heard motion outside her tent. As nicely quiet as her time in her tent had been, she wouldn’t exactly have described it as peaceful. Felix’s insinuations, not to mention Felix himself, occupied a lion’s share of her thoughts. If he was to be believed, Pan…liked her? “Wanted” did sound like the more appropriate word, when she thought about it. “Liked” implied he viewed her as a person rather than a plaything. That would explain his sudden switch in tactics, and she supposed he had always been far too much in her space for her comfort. Then again, what was it he had called her that day at the pond? “Not entirely hideous”? She punched the furs of her pallet in frustration.

And then there was Felix. Since their conversation in the woods she felt as though she were seeing him with different eyes. _Eyes I’d like to trade back for the old ones_ , she grumbled to herself. She’d never noticed before that she liked the way he spoke, that his lazy grin turned her stomach over in something very different than fear, that for all his mocking and teasing he was patient nonetheless. She wanted to go back to not noticing. _So he’s attractive._ She bargained with herself. _That’s not the same as liking him._ She’d found Pan attractive, after all. _Ah yes,_ her mind needled. _“Found”. Past tense. Of course._ She brushed it off with a huff.  Past or present tense, thinking he was good-looking didn’t mean she liked him. _Get a grip on yourself, Sarah._ Growling, she punched her pallet again.

The noise outside her tent grew louder. Hushed whispers followed, then a muffled shout as though someone had called her name and been cut off halfway through. She sat up cautiously, listening intently now. More whispers. Slowly she stood, stepping towards her tent flaps and peering out. She opened them with a sigh, crossing her arms as she stared down a somewhat sheepish-looking Arthur, an excited Xavier, a bored Rasheed, and to her surprise, Nibs. Arthur pulled Xavier to the side just in time for the younger boy to avoid Nibs’ well-aimed elbow. “I told you you were being too loud!” Nibs hissed. Sarah raised an eyebrow.

“If you tell me this is the start of another game, I’m throwing _myself_ to the mermaids.” Nibs looked taken aback.

“I believe we all saw the mermaids will not take you.” Rasheed remarked. She narrowed her eyes. Once she got over the “almost-died” and “almost-died part two: made Pan angry” parts of her experience with the mermaid, she had thought it was pretty cool. How many other people were mermaid-proof, after all? Rasheed’s unique gifts for words made it sound as if she wasn’t good enough for the mermaids to go after. Arthur stepped in to smooth things over.

“It’s not a game.” He assured her. “We just hadn’t seen you since you left with Pan this morning and…” He trailed off, trying to find the right way to phrase what he wanted to say. Xavier, impatient, had no compunctions about word choice. He barreled on with their explanation.

“And Arthur’s a worry wort, so I asked Felix where you were. And he must be in a really good mood, because he actually told us instead of saying it was “for him to know” or “nothing for us to worry about” or anything like that.” Sarah smiled somewhat at Xavier’s impression of Felix’s irritatingly cheerful drawl. She had to admit, it was a good one. She did wonder what had happened to put Felix in such a good mood – and if she was honest, what a “good mood” for Felix even looked like. “He told us you were probably sulking in your tent – ow!” Arthur had not been fast enough to pull him away that time. Sarah scowled. Well, that answered one question.

“Oh he did, did he?” It figured, the only time he would answer a question straight was to mock her.

“And we thought you might want cheering up.” Arthur said firmly, before Xavier could put his foot in his mouth again. Unfortunately for Arthur, some powers on Neverland were far beyond his abilities.

“That and I wanted to know why you were sulking.” Xavier’s curiosity being one of them. “Does it have anything to do with why Pan is in such a bad – I’m going to get you for that one, Nibs.” Arthur held his excitable paramour firmly to his side as Nibs sidled away. Sarah scrunched her brows. She could guess why Pan was in a bad mood, but she wasn’t keen to go over the reasons with the Lost Boys. It was sweet that they had come to cheer her up, though she suspected Rasheed was just along for the ride. “ _Anyway_.” Xavier said testily. “It didn’t sound like you were sulking – it sounded like you were angry.”

Sarah stared at them a long moment, then rolled her eyes upwards with a sigh. “It’s nothing.” She assured them. “Just…Pan being Pan.” The four boys exchanged looks.

“Want to show me how that fire-starting’s coming along?” Nibs offered. Sarah smiled gratefully. It would be nice to focus on something other than her rat-warren of feelings. With a nod, she tied her tent flaps closed and followed. Before too long her anxious irritations fell away, cheered by the stories, jokes, and good-natured fights of her friends amongst the Lost Boys.

While Sarah forgot about her troubles, Pan had gone to investigate his. He was impressed in spite of himself when he reached the willow. He had expected something small, perhaps not entirely changed from the jungle tree it had once been. The long fronds brushed against him as he ran his hand gently over the bark. He looked down at his feet to see dark purplish-green vines twining over roots as large as if the tree had stood here for ages. All of it radiated Neverland magic. He had to admit, Sarah was good. Very good. He considered changing it back – he kept his jungles dark and dense for a reason – but in the end decided to let it stay as it was. He had a thinking tree, after all. If he was going to bring out the parts of Sarah that were like him, why shouldn’t she?

As he reached the edge of camp, he paused. He watched as Sarah laughed loudly, head thrown back with an expression of reckless joy, and frowned. He hadn’t seen her laugh like that since the day after she’d come to Neverland, when he’d called her a Lost Girl for the first time. What if he had meant it, he wondered briefly. If he actually had treated her the same as the other Lost Ones from the start? _I’d have missed out on a great deal of fun,_ he decided. But his task now might not be so very difficult. The group with Sarah had grown to include Kasim and Loto, and from the corner of his eye he could see young Alec watching them all curiously. She fit in well with the Lost Boys, he realised. Still, it irked him that she could be so at ease with them when she was so guarded with him.

He strolled over to the edge of the group. “Having a good time?” It was impressive how quickly her face went from smile to stone. Kasim and Loto greeted their leader happily, glad to see his mood from earlier had improved.

“We were just telling her about the first time Loto picked up a sword.” Kasim told him, laughing. Loto had been so enthusiastic about hacking and slashing with the thing that he had slashed a tent right down the middle. To ensure the lesson stuck, Pan had made him repair it with needle and thread rather than imagining up a new one. He had told Sarah proudly that he still had marks from the needle pricks to this day, and that he had barely picked up a sword since. Pan smiled.

“Perhaps you should practice your swordwork with Loto, Sarah.” Pan suggested. “Since you could both use the improvement.” He peered at her curiously. “You _have_ been practicing, haven’t you?”

Sarah narrowed her eyes. “I’ve been busy.” Pan’s face was all innocence.

“Well you’re not busy now, are you?” Two dull-edged swords appeared in his hand. He tossed one to Loto, then offered the other to Sarah. She took it reluctantly. Story aside, she doubted her ability to beat Loto in a fight. The other boys cheered as they spread out to form a wide arc around her and her opponent. Loto rolled his wrist as he moved into an offensive stance. Sarah did the same. _What is Pan’s angle here?_ She wondered. Her eyes flicked over to him.

Her attention snapped back as Loto closed for a strike. She brought her blade up at the last moment, blocking the strike and parrying it to the side. Pushing his blade aside was difficult; Even with all the activity she’d been doing on the island he was much stronger than her. “You said you’d get me next time, didn’t you Sarah?” Loto teased. She went on the offensive, sweeping her blade underneath his towards his stomach. He blocked it close, closer than she would have been comfortable with had the swords been sharp. _He’s slow_ , she realised. She broke into a grin.

“That’s right, deal-breaker.” She tilted her sword up, allowing his blade to slide free. When he struck again – it was convenient for her that he was fond of overhead cuts – she arced her blade quickly around from her parry, bringing the dull edge to rest against his throat. She smiled at the sound of hoots from the sidelines. “I said I would, and it looks like I have.” Loto dropped his sword with a grin. When she lowered hers, he thumped her enthusiastically on the shoulders.

“Guess I’ll have to pick up the sword again after all.” He pronounced. “Can’t go on getting beat by the fresh meat!” Sarah knocked him off her shoulder with a laugh.

“How about a real challenge?” The laugh died in her throat as Pan picked up Loto’s abandoned sword. Loto murmured that it had been nice knowing her as he slipped away to join the circle around them. She adjusted her stance nervously, knuckles going white as she gripped the blade. The two circled each other at first, the mischievous glint in Pan’s eye making clear who was the cat and who the mouse. He gestured with the sword, throwing his arms wide and leaving his torso exposed. “Come on, Lost Girl!” He taunted. Sarah grit her teeth, but stayed in her defensive stance. Pan glanced to the side. “Well if you won’t fight.” His eyes met hers. “Then I will.”

He moved in a blur, arcing the sword as gracefully as if he were dancing. Sarah fell back with a yelp, struggling to keep her sword moving from attacks which seemed to come from everywhere at once. Pan bore down on a blocked strike, grinning at her over their crossed blades. “Cheer up, Sarah.” He needled. She growled in response. She pushed his blade away only to find his sabre bearing down on hers again in the next instant. “You’ve already lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“What is your deal, Peter?” She hissed. For all she was struggling to keep up, she could tell he was still going easy on her.

“A deal?” She thought he might at least have the decency to pretend he was trying. “I like the sound of that.” Wasn’t he even a little out of breath? Sarah certainly was, and her arm was growing tired to boot. “How about this. If you last for, say, thirty more seconds…I’ll tell you what it is I’ve got planned.” Sarah narrowed her eyes.

“And if I don’t?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too onerous. I just thought it might be nice to take a little stroll.” He tilted his head towards her. “Come on Sarah, you’ve made it this far – what’s a few seconds?” Sarah frowned. This seemed too easy. All she’d have to do was back up, stay out of his range, and surely even she could last a measly thirty seconds. And for the chance to know what he was up to…she nodded. In seconds her sword clattered across the clearing, ripped from her grasp by Pan’s deft maneuvering of their blades. She watched it go with a defeated sigh as the Lost Boys jeered and clapped. A glance at Pan revealed a victorious smirk plastered across his face.

“Fine.” Sarah panted, throwing her hands up in defeat. “Where are we going?” With a wave of his hands, the swords disappeared. Sarah followed him out of the camp, with only a few pleading looks to their dispersing watchers. Once they were out of eyesight of the camp, Pan slowed to walk beside her instead of in front.

“Nowhere in particular.” He told her casually. Sarah glanced at him sidelong. His demeanour was strange, with no hint of threat, mockery, or that uncomfortably convincing earnestness he deployed when trying to trick her into…whatever it was he was trying to trick her into. For all the world, it seemed as though they really were just on a stroll. Sarah didn’t trust it for a moment. The two walked along in silence, Sarah sneaking glances every so often to assure herself that no, he hadn’t transformed back into the demon yet. Every time she did, he appeared to be looking elsewhere. At the trees, a vine, the path ahead – everywhere but at her.

“They won’t think less of you for losing to me, you know.” Sarah scrunched her forehead. “If that’s what you’re worried about.” Pan shrugged. “Everyone does – even Felix, though he certainly comes the closest.” Sarah stared at him, suspicious. With her eyes not on the path, she nearly walked face first into a tree. “Careful.” Pan pulled her aside just before impact. She stepped away from him hastily, nervous of the contact. Pan’s hand fell from her arm slowly, and he stopped to look at her. His face scrunched in confusion.

“I know what you’re doing.” Sarah accused, arms wrapped below her chest. Pan blinked as though he didn’t understand. “Felix told me.” His brows quirked.

“What did he tell you?” He asked, dryly amused. Sarah blew a long breath of air through her nose as she stared at the ground beside her. She suddenly found herself unable to voice her accusations. The thought was still too outrageous, and though she knew it was ridiculous when he had done far worse things, she couldn’t stand the thought of him laughing at her if it turned out Felix had just been trying to bait her. But then, how else to explain his odd behavior? “Sarah?” She grit her teeth.

“Felix said that you…” He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are.” Her fists clenched. “…Interested. In me.” Silence. She pressed on, irritation rising in her voice. “And we both know that’s not what’s really happening. So I know what you’re _pretending_ to do.” Her eyes narrowed, and Pan wondered that the ground didn’t burst into flames beneath her gaze. “And I’m _going_ to figure out why.”

“Do we both know that?” Sarah whipped her eyes upward to glare at his perfectly calm face. Pan leaned back against a tree, looking her over. “How many people on this island do you think can conjure up trees on a whim, Sarah? Or throw a fireball?” An uneasy feeling began to spread over her. “I count two. Me,” he gestured to himself, and then to her. “And you.” Sarah looked away. Notes of annoyance crept into Pan’s voice now. “How many girls do you think would dangle themselves over a cliff just to show me up, let alone challenge me to my own game? And let’s not forget that you actually tried to attack me – me! – with a spoon of all things.” Pan pushed himself off the tree, closing the space between them in a huff. “Why do you refuse to see what’s in front of you?” When she didn’t answer, he growled. “Bloody hell, Sarah. Look at me!”

She did.


	48. Shell

She looked into light green eyes made dark with old shadows, into eyes that seemed for all the world to be searching for something in her own. She looked at a jaw clenched tight and a chest that rose and fell quickly, at arms locked tightly to stiff sides, and blinked. “You’re nervous.” She said with wonder. Pan’s face twitched. “Why are you nervous?” Was it possible, after everything, that he was actually telling the truth? Or part of it, at any rate? No. No, that couldn’t be it. She had seen already that he was an excellent actor, this had to be more of the same. Her eyes ran rapidly over his face, widening as she came to a startling conclusion. “You’re serious.” Pan exploded.

“Of course I’m serious!” He snapped, turning away from her and throwing his hand to the air with exasperation. He was impressed at how sincere he sounded – he very nearly believed himself, though the idea that he would get so caught up over a silly girl was, of course, ridiculous. “Do you think I play at being soft – at being _weak_ like this, for fun?” Sarah regarded him coolly. She did think that, in fact. But there was something different about Pan’s attitude today, something that told her he was perhaps not so in control as he thought himself.

“Yes.” A knowing smile slid over her face. Pan frowned. “But I don’t think you are now.” He had thought when he convinced her he would feel victorious, a conqueror. Instead, she was looking at him as though they had just traded places in their game, as though she were now the cat and he a particularly juicy mouse. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the strange, foreign feeling washing over him.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Sarah tilted her head back, a calculating look in her eye.

“What if I said yes?” Pan blinked. After all her resistance, all her refusal. She was just…giving in? That didn’t seem right. None of this seemed right, actually. “What if I said sure, alright. I believe you. You care about me, you’re interested in me, sure. I buy it.” She narrowed her eyes, smirking. “What then?” The corner of Pan’s mouth twitched downward. What was she getting at, exactly? He clenched his jaw.

“You know me. I like action.” Sarah raised an eyebrow, amused. “I proved I care about you, just like you asked, it seems only fair you do the same.” To his surprise, Sarah laughed. A cruel laugh, one he was far more familiar with coming from his own throat. His eyes narrowed, peering with suspicion at eyes that sparked the barest swirl of shadows.

“There’s just one problem, Peter.” Sarah smiled at him, sugar-sweet. “I never said I care about you.” A sliding, snaky feeling squirmed in her core. _I’m only doing to him what he did to me_ , she told herself. _Turnabout is fair play, isn’t it?_ If it was, it didn’t feel like it. She squashed the feeling down as Pan’s face hardened. Whether he was serious or not, she realised, taunting Pan was playing with fire. He loomed over her, a snarl twitching on his lips.

“Don’t lie to me, Lost Girl.” He stormed. “I know you’re lying. I know – ” His eyes narrowed. He stepped away, gazing at her intensely. “Do you think I didn’t see the way you looked at me when you first came to the island? The way you blush and look away when I get close to you. Do you think I haven’t noticed how hurt you look when you think I don’t care?” He laughed. “You’re lying, Sarah. To yourself is bad enough, but to me?” Sarah glared at him, not liking his insinuations at all. Even worse, she could feel him shifting back to something dark and threatening. “On this island – _my_ island – that comes with consequences.”

“I’m not lying.” Sarah set her face in a hard line, returning his glare measure for measure though she wanted more than anything to look away. “How could I care about you?” It was a struggle to keep her voice even, but somehow she managed. “You’re violent, manipulative, cruel-” Pan cut her off.

“So are you.” Sarah gaped at him, aghast. “Oh, maybe not all the time.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve got it all tucked nicely away under that soft, weak little shell of yours, don’t you Sarah?” He watched with pleasure as her jaw tightened. If he listened closely he was sure he would hear her teeth grinding. “But I know better. I can see it there, sitting right below the surface.” His voice dropped low. “Just begging to come out and play.” He reached his hand up towards her face. She swiped it away angrily, but denied his original goal he closed his hand instead around hers.   His face turned plaintive. “Why not let it out? Don’t hide from who you are, Sarah.” His thumb ran over her captive hand. “Embrace it.”

“I told you before, Peter.” Her voice edged the space between them with steel. “I will never be you. No matter how long I live on this island, no matter who I like or don’t like, care or don’t care about, I will always fight to keep myself from giving in to all the parts you claim I’m hiding from.” Something sparked in her eye, but it wasn’t the shadows he’d been hoping for. “Because I know what they look like, and I. Don’t. Want them.” Her voice hardened. “And I don’t want you.”

 “We are the _same._ ” Pan insisted. Couldn’t she see she didn’t have to hide who she was anymore? She didn’t need that weak shell she put up, the one that cared about things like parents and feelings and Lost Boys who ought to be beneath her.

She realised then that she truly _didn’t_ want the Pan standing in front of her. But with that realization came another, far more unsettling. She didn’t want the Pan standing in front of her, but she did want Pan. She wanted the Pan who promised to keep her parents from worrying about her, not the one who taunted her with a kindness turned to cruelty. She wanted the Pan who cast a sleeping spell over her because he knew she’d be too anxious otherwise to rest, not the one who stoked her fears to feed on them as though they were a delicacy. The one who flew her high to show her Neverland in all its glory. Not the one who dropped her, just because he could.

Though Pan couldn’t guess what she was thinking, he could see in her eyes that something in her mood was changing. “If we’re the same,” She asked him quietly, “Where’s your shell?” Something within him twisted uncomfortably. He didn’t have a shell, didn’t need one – he had gotten rid of his weakness, his fears, years ago. “If we’re the same, why do I have one and you don’t?”

“Because I can accept who I am.” He dropped her hand from his grasp. “I don’t need that disgusting weakness you’re so proud about, and neither do you.” To Sarah’s surprise, he broke their eye contact, glancing off to the side. Her face twisted in confusion. He seemed nervous again, and that…that didn’t seem right. An idea sprung to her, one she was very certain she’d regret. _What if this is still part of his act?_ Her mind anxiously demanded. _If this is all an elaborate ruse to lure you in, to drop your guard? What then?_ No. She couldn’t say why, but she knew she needed to trust herself. She needed to try, and then…well, and then she’d see. One way or the other, she’d see if shadows really were the total measure of the boy standing before her.

Tepidly, she reached out to grasp his hand with hers. His eyes snapped back, face scrunched with intense confusion. Her face was set determinedly, the way it had been when she’d dangled over the cliff to keep him from winning. She looked down at their joined hands as she turned his hand softly over in hers. She traced the mark from her knife with cool fingers. What was she doing? He met her eyes as they drew back up to his face, staring deeply into his own. “Let’s stop this, Peter.” Her voice was whisper-soft, the breath of a breeze tangling through golden-green falls of willow. That odd, unpleasant feeling twisted in his core and he scowled. His heart was beating inexplicably faster now, and as their gazes stayed locked it only seemed to be getting worse.

“Stop what?” He demanded hotly. Sarah didn’t flinch.

“I have a new game.” A grim smile played at the edges of her mouth. “It’s called honesty. Since you hate lying so much, it should be easy for you.” Pan narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “You want me to stop hiding? Fine. But I don’t think I’m the only one who is.” A snarl twitched at his lips, but he schooled his face to calmness. He could use this, surely. Once she admitted what he knew was true, everything else would fall into place. He wasn’t hiding from anything, and it was only her own sad, desperate mind that told her otherwise. “I’ll even start.” He tried, with little success, to staunch the frantic beating of his heart.

“Fine.” He forced his voice to smoothness. It was not a perfect impression. “We’ll play your little game.” Sarah took a deep breath, forcing her eyes to stay looking into his.

“I don’t want you.” Pan frowned. This game was about honesty, wasn’t it? “I want an _idea_ of you. An idea you keep showing me just the smallest flashes of, just enough to keep me from breaking free of you completely.” She couldn’t look him in the eye any longer. Even if this had been her idea, she was quickly realising it was easier said than done. “So you’re right. It _does_ bother me that you don’t care, that I don’t even know if you’re capable of caring. It bothers me that every time you pretend to I get caught up in the illusion so easily because I _want_ to believe it, even though I know it’s fake.” Her teeth ground together, and she all but growled at her own frailty as she felt her eyes began to sting.

“It bothers me to know that no matter what you’re doing, there’s always something dark behind it, some secret agenda I can’t see that moves me like a pawn in a twisted game of chess I can’t even begin to guess at the motivations of.” She paused, her free hand clenching to a tight fist. “And what bothers me most is that you’re right: I _am_ weak. Because if I were strong, I wouldn’t be telling you all of this, wouldn’t be clinging to the stupid, _stupid_ hope that if we’re as alike as you say, you aren’t all shadows and cruelty in the same way that I’m not all kindness and light.”  She pulled her hand to free it, staring harshly at the ground as the first tear overwelled its banks.

Pan closed around that hand, keeping it firmly in his grasp. His mind was reeling. This was what he had expected, wasn’t it? For her to accept how much she clearly wanted him, to be like putty in his hands as he kept her turning this way and that like a puppet on short-trimmed strings. And once she admitted it, he could show her how to be strong, to be dark, to revel in all the things she hated about herself. Instead he felt, outrageously, that he wanted to show her that her hope wasn’t stupid at all, that he _was_ more than shadows and scheming, that he could be the idea she was so attached to. _Don’t let her control you._ His mind whispered darkly. _Are you really going to be suckered in by a few tears and a face that’s hardly even pretty?_

Her hand was shaking now, he realised, and when he looked he saw that her shoulders quivered with tension as she fought to keep from breaking into full-on tears. He drew her face carefully back up to his, staring into a face staunch as stone for all the tears flowed down it now freely. Her jaw was held so tight he was surprised it didn’t crack. The two held each others eyes a long time, Pan’s searching, Sarah’s bold, as though daring him to prove what she suspected, prove he was nothing but a cruel, manipulative monster. “I don’t think I want to play this game anymore.” He said at last. His voice sounded strangled, foreign.

 Hurt flashed in Sarah’s eyes even as she narrowed them. She had been stupid, unbelievably stupid, to think this would work. She had stripped away her armour in the hope that maybe, just maybe, she could lure her enemy to do the same. She hadn’t gained any ground. Instead she had lost it, the tiny, scrabbled ground she had fought blood and tooth and nail to keep. She had given it up willingly. And for nothing. She looked away, wanting to be somewhere, anywhere but here. Pan didn’t release her when she pulled away. Was it so much to ask? She had bared her heart and soul to him, could he at least let her be free of his acid touch? The picture of the willow, her willow, flashed in her mind. What she wouldn’t give to be there right now, peaceful and alone.

“Sarah…” She snapped her eyes back to him, and he saw with trepidation all the hurt becoming anger in her eyes. The next moment she was gone, leaving only moss-green fog to twine around his hand where hers had been.


	49. Compass

Pan stared at the smoke, closing his fist around it. When had she learned to do that? He certainly hadn’t taught her. And more to the point, where had she gone? He closed his eyes, reaching out over the island to feel for her presence. He frowned. His eyes opened with a snap as, growling, he whirled himself around towards the camp. For the first time since she had come to the island, Pan had no idea where she could be.

Lost Boys scattered at the sight of their leader, eyes cracking with an angrier fire than many of them had ever seen in his eyes, leaving only Felix in the center of the camp. Felix stood slowly from the stump he’d been sitting on. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Pan look so angry, but more than that, he knew there had never been a time he’d seemed afraid. Felix’s brows furrowed, looking to his leader wide-eyed for an explanation. He bit his tongue from speaking the first thing that came to his mind – _I take it things did not go well_ – not wanting to risk a response when Pan was so volatile. Whatever Sarah had done this time, Felix had the dully thudding feeling she was going to regret it.

“Get the boys back out here and organized into search parties.” Pan snapped. When Felix didn’t move within an instant, he barked out “ _Now_ , Felix!” Felix locked his eyes to Pan’s.

“What happened?” His words dropped like stones. Pan snarled, but Felix kept himself composed. “Can you not sense her?” Pan’s eyes shunted sideways. He didn’t want to admit that no, he couldn’t feel her presence on the island, even to Felix. Grudgingly, he drew his eyes back to those of his first Lost Boy’s. If he couldn’t trust Felix, of all people, who could he trust?

“No.”

Sarah landed with a surprised thud in the branches of her willow. On any other day teleporting herself unexpectedly would have thrilled and perhaps frightened her. She might have crowed to realise she could finally get Pan back for all the times he’d appeared behind her, or in front of her, or generally anywhere she didn’t want him to be. Any other day, but not today. Today she pressed her forehead harshly against the bark of the tree, squeezing her eyes so tightly her head began to ache as she struggled in vain to keep her brain from thinking. _What did you expect_? It taunted her. _Did you really think any of that was anything but an act?_  She had seen it, she had been so sure she had seen it.

He was probably laughing at her now, wherever he was. Felix had warned her that she’d never beat Pan, and he was right. She hadn’t even tried to beat him, really – she had practically handed him his victory on a silver platter. And now she’d pay for it, for the rest of her life. Which on Neverland, would be a long one. She clung to the branches of the willow as to a life raft. She couldn’t go back to camp after everything she’d said, not knowing that Pan would hold it over her – Felix too, no doubt, once they talked – every moment of every day. And it wouldn’t be long until the Lost Boys heard about it, she was sure. She didn’t want them to find out how incredibly stupid she had been.

The worst part was that images of Pan’s face flashed continuously against her mind, the very pictures of earnestness and sincerity. “Why can’t you let it _go_.” She pleaded. That she had seen once and for all that she was imagining things, that there was nothing there but games and shadows and twisted, twisted manipulations, yet still could not let go of that tiny, chafing hope made her even angrier at herself than she was at Pan.

Soft fronds of willow blew over her shoulder, resting between her arm and her neck. Her eyelids fluttered open. She watched the hanging branches swaying gently in the wind, flashing with the weak sunlight filtering through the jungle canopy overhead. As she stared, the raging turmoil of her emotions ebbed, giving way slowly but surely to a blissful, empty numbness. _It’s done now._ She mused. _You made this bed and you’ll have to lie in it. Feeling sorry for yourself won’t do a thing to stop it, will it?_ She sighed, long and heavy. She plastered a painful smile to her face. “I am such an idiot.” 

She stayed there till the light began to fade from the sky and the insects of the night began their calling. The journey back to camp seemed much too far for limbs of lead, and even as the sounds of jungle creatures waking up cried in her ear, she couldn’t bring herself to face what she knew must be waiting for her there. So instead she sat, hour turning over into hour, staring out at the jungle from her tree, thinking of and feeling nothing but sun on bark, wind in branches, and the chittering of small life on the forest floor. At some point the dark of the jungle and the dark of her eyelids blended together, and cradled in the branches of her tree she slept.

She awoke again with the first light of morning. She stretched tentatively, and smiled to see long branches curling away from where they’d wrapped her in the night. Neverland trees could be quite particular things, and this one had decided she was its as much as it was hers. It rather liked being a willow, and it had no mind to let its girl fall from its grasp during the night. “Thank you.” She told it quietly. The branches shivered in response. She climbed down carefully, bestowing a gentle kiss of thanks on the bark, and turned to look out on the dense jungle all around her.

Mist still curled around each root and vine, but in the very earliest light of morning the jungle was silent. The nightstalkers had gone to bed, and the morning birds were just starting to wake up. She felt outside of time, as though she were the only living thing abroad in a strange, soft place. She felt calmer than she had yesterday – or at least more detached. She had survived one night outside the camp without being eaten by a jungle creature or falling from the branches of a tree. And if one night, why not more? It was clear to her now that she had never really been a Lost Girl. Pan had always kept her apart, treated her not as one of his band but as an outsider, a mouse to be chewed up and spat out when he grew bored.

She clutched at the compass around her neck. It was still beautiful to her, the very first real thing she’d made on the island. But she didn’t need it anymore. Her grip tightened. Resolutely, she pulled. The cord gave with a snap. She retied it around a long hanging branch of the willow and then turned, walking into the jungle. The compass swayed behind her in the trees. Where it led, she told herself, she’d never willingly return.

The compass would not stay long in the tree. Before an hour had elapsed, Felix found it hanging from the branch she’d tied it on. He had convinced Pan to wait for her to return the night before. Though his leader wouldn’t say what had passed between them, Felix found himself suspecting that the game had changed again. Whatever had made it change, and whatever it had changed to, Pan was not taking it well. He had still been awake, staring into the fire when Felix at last had gone to sleep, and he was still there, staring into embers, when Felix awoke with the light of the morning. There was no sign of Sarah.

The two locked eyes as Felix emerged from his tent. Then, wordlessly, they both walked into the jungle. Felix had an idea where their runaway bird had flown to. As he reached the tree with no grumpy Lost Girl sitting in its branches, a feeling very much like fear washed over him. He untied the compass carefully, turning it over in his hand, then looked out into the jungle. Pan would _not_ be pleased.


	50. Believe

It was many days before they saw her again. The Lost Boys walked on eggshells in the camp, with most opting to disappear from it entirely if their leader was at home. More often, however, he was out on some secret business he wouldn’t tell them about. He wouldn’t tell them, but Arthur and his band had a feeling it had something to do with Sarah. When Pan had returned alone from their “stroll”, fuming, they had shrugged it off. Sarah and Pan always seemed to be at each other’s throats, and it was 10:1 she’d show up scowling before too long, possibly dragged back by Felix if she didn’t come of her own volition. When she didn’t return that night, or the next, or the one after that, they grew worried. When they’d tried to ask Felix, he’d told them in a hard voice not to meddle in Pan’s affairs. And so, the days passed quietly, watchfully, as everyone waited for the storm to break.

Sarah, meanwhile, was exploring every bit of the island. It had taken practice, but she was now able to transport herself on purpose, even when she wasn’t filled with rage. More than once she had done so when she heard the voice of a Lost Boy or saw a glimpse of Felix. She refused to think about Felix almost as heartily as she refused to think about Pan, angry at the part the laconic boy had played, as she saw it, in her humiliating last encounter with his leader. Pan she saw none of, from fate or coincidence, but she told herself she was glad. Each day on Neverland felt far longer than the days she was used to in her world, but even so the time was not enough to fully stamp the aggravating boy from her mind, let alone from her heart.

 To distract herself, and because she had little else to do with no one else to talk to, she practiced her belief. Every now and then one of the island’s longer-time residents would stumble on some piece of her handiwork. Loto found the tall stand of ferns in his favourite spot for ambushes transformed to a twining, briar-laden rosebush reaching well above his head. Cody and Alec, having slipped away to the beach to escape Pan’s wrath, found gleaming crystalline statues lining the rock walls of the cove. Shaped like flowers and goddesses and fantastical beasts, they shimmered in all the pale colours of the ocean and the sky.

Pan himself, scouring the forests on foot or in flight, didn’t have to see her mark. He could feel it. He’d be stalking through the forest when the magic of belief would hit him like a wall, and he’d look down to see she’d changed the dirt to purple or grown mushrooms that looked for all the world like tiny houses. Each time, something tugged at him. He told himself it was annoyance, and that the urgency he felt to find her was caused by nothing more than the realisation that if he didn’t find her soon, she would set his whole island on its head, changing all his dark, dangerous jungles to airy trees and nodding flower beds.

But as the days passed with no further sign of her and the odd twisting feelings in his core grew stronger and stronger, he began to realise that it was possible, just possible, that Sarah had been right. Perhaps he _was_ hiding from something. He had countless arguments with her in his head as he searched the island. Where did she get off acting as though he wasn’t sincere in his intentions for her? He’d told her they were the same, told her – or at least suggested it strongly enough that anyone ought to be able to guess – that they were kindred spirits, if she’d just accept the parts of herself he knew were there. Sure, maybe he’d done a bit of acting. But somewhere along the way, he realised grimly, the acting had stopped. Even as he’d told himself it was just a ploy, some part of him had known better.

 It was that part of him, he understood at last, that twisted whenever he ran across one of her improvements to the island, that sank like a stone in his stomach when he’d seen her crying, and that fluttered so uncomfortably when he watched her taking joy in the magic of the island. In a twining fog, or a flower-filled meadow, or even in splashing an enemy from across a quiet pond. For the hundredth time since Felix had brought it back to him, he ran his fingers over the compass around his neck. Yes, much as he hated to admit it, Sarah was making him soft. Even worse, he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted her to stop.

None of his epiphanies would matter, however, if she insisted on squirreling around the island. One night, finally, he hit upon a plan. Rather than running himself all across the island to search for her, he would wait. She hadn’t come back to the willow yet, that he had seen, but it was only a matter of time. He was certain. Two days he camped out by the tree, until at last one night he was rewarded with the sound of a heavy thump on the willow’s branches. He snapped his eyes upwards, and there she was. She didn’t see him, of course. He had hidden in a copse of plants nearby, and she didn’t seem to be particularly wary of her surroundings in any case.

Instead, she looked relaxed. He watched as the slender branches of the willow twined around her, securing her to its branches. She laughed as leaves brushed over her hair. He’d never asked where her cloak had gotten off to, he realised. Evidently she hadn’t felt the need to imagine up another one. “I missed you too!” Sarah laughed. He started, his heart skipping two beats before he realised, with an odd sinking feeling, that she was talking to the tree. His mouth twitched downwards in annoyance. He’d lost out to a tree? “You know I can’t stay here every night.” He didn’t know what it was she had believed up for dinner, but it smelled delicious. “I think Felix might still be looking for me.” Felix? Felix wasn’t the one camped outside her precious tree right now.  He calmed his anger. If there was one person he didn’t have to worry about, it was Felix.

“So the bird returns to its nest at last.” If she hadn’t been secured to the branches, she might have fallen from her jump. As it was, her plate of dinner slid from her lap, vanishing before it hit the ground. The vines unwound as she stood shakily, balancing herself against the trunk. Standing in front of her tree now, he saw each bit of fear and hurt that flashed across her eyes before she schooled her face to a stone-smooth mask.

“Go away, Pan.” How could she sound so emotionless, how could she tell him to go away as if he hadn’t been searching for her for days?

“I believe “Peter” was the price of dealing with your little parent problem.” He caught her eyes begin to narrow before she smoothed them back to her blank mask. She didn’t take the bait.

“What do you want?” Sarah hoped the falling dark would hide the way her hand was shaking against the bark. If she’d just had a few more days, she could have done this, she was sure. She’d have been able to look at him without reliving how incredibly stupid she had been to open up to him, how stupid it was to even hope in the first place that he could be the Pan she’d seen those flashes of. Pan scowled. He looked as though he were weighing over options in his mind. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at her.

“You.” A single word, yet the way his voice sounded it might have been Stonehenge, dragged heavily over hill and field before slipping, all-reluctant, from his throat.

“Don’t.” Her voice came sharply now, thrown down from the branches like a knife. “It won’t work this time. Go back and laugh with Felix, whatever you came here for, I don’t _care_.” And here the cut from the first knife wound she’d given him had just gone away. To cover his discomfort, he laughed.

“You don’t mean that.” This time her eyes stayed narrowed.

“Well.” Sarah told him coldly. A painful smirk split her face. “You’d know a lot about that, now wouldn’t you?” Pan tried to teleport up beside her; It bothered him to be underneath her while they talked, with her looking down on him as though he were a bug she’d like to squash. Frowning, he tried again. “Having trouble?” He snapped his eyes upward. “Turns out belief has its own flavours of protection spells. This is _my_ territory Pan, and you. Are not. Allowed.” She needed him to leave, and soon. The way he was looking at her was already bringing down the defenses she’d been carefully bricking back up since she’d last seen him. But once she’d accepted her unpleasant truth, that she cared about Pan or at least some dream version of him that only existed in little flashes of time, it was like trying to put the water back in a dam.

Pan’s eyes narrowed. This was _his_ island. No one else had territory on it, and he could go wherever he pleased! Except that, apparently, he couldn’t. After two more failed attempts, he stopped trying. He let out a puff of air – this wasn’t what he’d come here for. “Come back to camp.” A strangled sound escaped Sarah’s throat that might have been a laugh. She was done taking orders from him. And what was more, the idea that she would step foot in that camp again, to be laughed at and jeered and mocked by everyone in it, was just too much, even for Pan. Pan frowned. In all their imagined arguments, this was not how he had imagined things going when he finally found her again. His eyes ran over her face. “Fine.” Her brows scrunched in confusion. “Let’s play.” She tilted her head back, the way she did when she suspected he was going to do something unpleasant.

Pan’s eyes skittered away from her, looking through the branches of the tree and off into the jungle. “You were…” Was he really going to do this? Him, Peter Pan? For some boring random girl from the Land Without Magic? No. Not boring, and not random. “Right.” He growled. He didn’t like this at all. “I don’t like the way you,” All the time he’d spent thinking of what to say to her, and now he could barely string a handful of words together. “You just…” His jaw ground together. “You make me weak, Sarah. And I can’t,” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t know how to explain that he hated the feelings she stirred up within him, and hated more that he found he couldn’t bring himself to tamp them down because he didn’t _want_ to. But who would he be if he didn’t?

A long, long silence followed. Sarah stood with her hands clutched bone-tight against her tree. He was really amping it up, wasn’t he? She tried desperately to shove down the little voice that told her no, this time, he _meant_ it. “If you don’t like it,” She screamed at herself for how strained her voice sounded. “Why are you here?” Another silence followed. Sarah ended it with a choked laugh. “Goodbye, Pan. If you see Felix, tell him I want my compass back.”

“Felix doesn’t – ” he stopped. Sarah watched as he lifted a cord from over his neck. He held it out to her, her compass swaying from the end. Something in her twisted. Why did he have it, and more to the point, why was he wearing it around his neck? She climbed carefully down from the tree, walking to the edge of the willow fronds where he stood, compass outstretched. She reached out her hand to take it. Pan’s hand closed around hers. “Please come back.” His voice strained. Quietly, Sarah pulled her hand away. He let it go, watching as she turned back to climb into her tree. “The Lost Boys miss you.” She paused.

As close as they were, he could see now how stiffly she held herself. When she turned to look back at him, the smile on her face looked as though it hurt. “You are so, _so_ good.” She accused. “But you already got what you wanted. You won.” She gasped a laugh, and the feeling he hated so much twisted to see she was crying again. Did she have to do that so often? “You were right, I broke first.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Go laugh it up with Felix and enjoy whatever it is you get out of this. Just leave me in peace.” 

Pan’s jaw clenched. He had all but begged her and she still wouldn’t come with him. What more did she want from him? He’d admitted she was right, he’d told her she was his weakness, and here she was just throwing it back in his face. Just like… he blinked. Well, like he’d done to her. Of all the unfamiliar feelings she stirred up in him, this new one was probably his least favourite. No, the great Peter Pan did not like “empathy” at all. When she turned back around, shaking her head in resigned disappointment, he stopped her. He rested his hand first on her shoulder, then caught her in a fierce embrace, arms locking around her to make it clear he was not letting her slip away again so easily.

Sarah froze. But this was not like so many times before when Pan had been in her space. Then he had been threatening, or cajoling, or controlling. Now, he clung to her as she had to her willow tree. Like a life raft. Like he was set adrift in a storm and only she could keep him from going under. “I’m sorry.” He breathed. She shuddered. This was going too far, this was really going too far. “I am…who I am. But the person you say is just a dream is also me, and…I think they’re a person I’d like to see more of.” She could feel his heart beating against her back, pounding wildly as though – as though he were afraid.

Sarah pried gently at his hands. They wouldn’t budge. “Peter.” She said softly. “Let me go.” She could feel him shake his head behind her. “Peter.” Slowly, his arms lessened their grip. She turned to face him. There was a sad, uncertain smile on her face. She reached her hand hesitantly towards his face. His eyes closed as she traced the curve of his cheek. “Neither one of us wants to feel this way.” She gave a watery laugh. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?” His eyes fluttered open, staring urgently into her own. He reached a hand up to cover hers.

“We’ll find a way.” He drew their hands down over his heart. “I believe.”


	51. Promise

The camp was silent when they returned. With no one in a celebratory mood, most of the Lost Boys were tucked away in their tents. Only Felix sat watch, carving away in his place by the lone lit fire. He glanced up as the two appeared in the center. He narrowed his eyes at first, squinting to assess the situation in the dim light. To his surprise, neither of them looked angry. Neither of them were sulking either. That surprised him, though perhaps with the unusual way Pan had been acting since Sarah went missing, it shouldn’t have. He stood, stretching, and ambled over to greet them. When he raised an eyebrow, Pan looked away. He hadn’t exactly thought through how to rectify what he’d told Sarah with his need to maintain his status as the Lost Boys’ untouchable leader.

But Felix only glanced towards Sarah, who watched him with a cautious eye. “Been a while, Lost Girl.” He mused. “I was starting to think you’d died.” To his surprise, Sarah smiled.

“No such luck for you, Felix.” She told him primly. “You’ll just have to accept that I outmaneuvered you.” Felix snorted, an amused smile playing in his eye. She was oddly cheerful, he thought, but at least peace seemed to be restored in the camp. With a nod to Pan, he ambled off towards his tent and bed. The tent two down from his rustled, and he was almost bowled over on his way by a speeding red-haired bullet that burst in an excited frenzy from the flaps. Three other, quieter figures followed.

Xavier skidded to the dirt as his target disappeared before him, reappearing in a moment behind his back. Standing up, he gaped. “You have magic.” Sarah grinned. “Since when do you have magic?” To knock him from his stupor, Sarah grappled him to the ground. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed these boys. Arthur glanced to Pan, who, though frowning, gave the slightest nod. Arthur pulled the two apart, staring at Sarah a long moment before saying at last,

“I’m never playing you in any hiding game again.” He tried to look stern, but at Sarah’s sheepish grin they both soon broke into a laugh. “Good to have you back, Lost Girl.” And it was. He clapped her warmly on the shoulder, pleased both that his friend was safe, and that their leader seemed to have finally left the warpath. Sarah glanced over at the other two figures who’d come out to investigate. Nibs gave her a nod with a lop-sided smile. Rasheed peered at her intensely. He was always observant, but tonight in particular he seemed to be searching for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it.

“It was quiet while you were gone.” Rasheed informed her. When she raised an eyebrow, he shrugged. “Quiet is not always nice.” With a snort, she walked over to knock his head lightly, ruffling his hair as she did so.

“I missed you too, brat.” He scowled. Pan scowled too, annoyed that she was so happy to see these Lost Boys when she’d been so unhappy to see him. And if she’d missed them so very much, why hadn’t she come back to camp sooner? He knew why, of course. The problem was that they really were too much alike, and he should have known that her pride would keep her away whatever she felt towards the other inhabitants of the camp. He watched as, laughing, she sent them back to their tent, telling them she’d answer their questions in the morning. Then she turned, meeting his gaze with an unreadable look in her own. “Goodnight, Peter.” She turned away from him then, walking towards her tent.

Pan appeared before her, frowning. “And just where do you think you’re going?” Sarah blinked. She gestured towards her tent, confused as to why he was asking a question with such an obvious answer. Pan’s jaw clenched. “I don’t think so.” For all he knew she would step into that tent and disappear back into the jungle, hiding out for days or even weeks until he stumbled across her again. Sarah’s eyes hardened. There he went, ordering her around again as though nothing had happened between them. _Maybe nothing did._ Her mind needled. If it turned out that everything tonight had been a ruse as well, she decided, she might just give in to her dark side, just for a bit, to kill the boy standing in front of her.

“What do you mean, _you don’t think so_?” He could hear the storm brewing in her voice. On one level it excited him – after all the gross, soft feelings he had felt over the days she was missing, the prospect of a real fight was appealing. On a deeper level, however, he knew that starting a fight with her now would be a terrible move. He leveled her with a serious gaze.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight, Lost Girl.” He took her hand, dragging them both in the direction of his tent. Sarah’s heart began to race. He didn’t actually intend that – she glanced at his face. He did. She planted her feet outside the entrance.

“I’m not going in there.” She told him firmly. Pan frowned.

“I don’t see what the problem is. You’ve slept in there before, haven’t you?” Sarah winced at how loud his voice sounded. Did he want the entire camp to hear him? Her eyes flickered from boy to tent and back again.

“Not with,” She coughed. “Not with you there.” She didn’t think she had, at any rate. It occurred to her now that she hadn’t thought to ask where Pan had slept the night she’d stayed in his tent. She’d assumed since he wasn’t there when she woke up that it had been elsewhere, but perhaps that had been too trusting of her. A flush crept over her face. Lacking interest in…more typical intimacy, as she did, sleeping beside someone was the most physically intimate thing she could imagine. She didn’t think she was ready to take that step with Peter, not when only this morning she’d been cursing his name. She pulled her hand free.

Pan let it go, but his eyes narrowed. He was uncomfortable with the way Sarah was looking at him, scanning his face as though trying to figure something out. “What are you doing?” He snapped at last. Instead of wincing as she normally did, she smiled. A genuine smile, one that twinkled softly all the way to her eyes.

“You’re afraid I’m going to disappear again.” Did she have to sound so amused? He was about to bite back, tell her fine, disappear into the jungle again, see if he cared, when she picked up his hands in hers. He looked from their hands to her face, where a glimmer of amusement shone in her eye. She spoke quietly. “I, Sarah Everett, promise you, Peter Pan, that I will still be here when you wake up in the morning.” She squeezed his hands in hers before she dropped them. “Goodnight, Peter.” Though her voice was soft, her words were firm. He watched as she walked to her long-abandoned tent, slipping through the flaps and out of sight.

Everything was just as she had left it, yet it felt a great deal different than before. Her much-abused pajamas still sat in the corner, her pallet lay untouched. Yet as she sat down on it to slip off her boots, she came to realise what was different. The tent had not changed, but she had. She had sworn, in this very tent no less, that she would never see Pan as anything but a monster. She hadn’t forgotten what he’d done. She knew to brush it all away would be foolish, to pretend it couldn’t happen again naïve. But she felt, deep within, that there was more to Pan than either of them had known. And somehow, some way, that more was starting to come out. She smiled as she sank onto the pallet. After days on ground and in trees, even very friendly trees, it felt like feathers. Yes, she mused, drifting off to comfortable sleep, Pan had surprised her, and she suspected himself as well. This was not, she wagered, how he had meant his game to go.

“Goodnight.” Pan whispered, when she was already too far-off to hear him say it. His hands buzzed where hers had been as he grudgingly entered into his own tent. He surveyed it, eyes falling to an object on the floor. He bent slowly, picking up Sarah’s knife from where he’d thrown it to the ground a few days prior. He brushed the dirt away and tied it carefully to the tent pole above his pallet. He slept better that night than he had in many, though still not well. Now that she was back, tucked safely in his camp where he knew that he could find her, the dark and needling parts of his mind pricked up again. He was Pan, they told him, the fearsome leader of the island. People cowered at his name, and he had done the stuff of nightmares. But Sarah made him someone else, as well. He didn’t know how he could be both. With an angry punch, he rolled over on his pallet. This was _not_ how he had meant this game to go.


	52. Wait

It shouldn’t have surprised Sarah that Pan was waiting outside her tent the next morning. It shouldn’t have, but it did. After so long of not having to worry about bumping into the boy king every time she turned around, she had forgotten his irritating penchant for placing himself directly in her way. Consequently, she greeted him with a shoulder to his chest as soon as she left her tent, yelping at the sudden and unexpected roadblock.

“So you are still here.” Sarah, who had backed into her tent until the way was clear, narrowed her eyes. His worry had been cute the night before, but now she felt it bordered on petulance. The fact that she was often cranky in the mornings didn’t help, nor did the fact that she was hungry – with all that had happened the night before, she’d entirely forgotten about her dinner being interrupted.

“I told you I would be, didn’t I?” Annoyance edged the corners of her voice. “Could you please back up?” Pan crossed his arms with a smirk. He didn’t move. With a growl, she stepped back into her tent and sank heavily onto her pallet. If he wasn’t going to move, she’d just eat breakfast in here. Surely he’d get bored eventually. Instead, to her displeasure, he ducked through the flaps a moment later. She gaped. “What are you doing?” She demanded. “You can’t come in here!” Pan snorted, looking off to the side and then back at her.

“Are you really the one to lecture me about going into other people’s tents?” Sarah glanced off. He had a point. “Besides, it’s not as though I haven’t been in here before.”

“What!” He smiled at her discomposure. She took a deep breath, calming herself. He probably just meant he’d been in the tent before she arrived. Someone had to have set it up, or believed it up, or whatever. It could very easily have been Pan.

“Yes, and I have to say, that pallet of yours isn’t nearly so comfortable as mine.” At her wide eyes, he snorted. “Surely you didn’t think I slept _outside_ when you were occupying my tent after that business with Lucian?” Sarah stood abruptly. Nevermind that she had already spent several nights there after he’d slept on it, now that she knew he had it felt _weird_.  Pan raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Lost Girl.” He remarked dryly. “I’ve a mind to be insulted by that.” Sarah crossed her arms, avoiding his eyes to hide her embarrassment.

“Good.” She grumbled. “If you’re so insulted, leave.” Pan chuckled, soft and low. She stiffened as he wrapped an arm around her back.

“Come on, Lost Girl.” He needled. “If we’re going to be lovers –”

“If we _what_?” Sarah sprang away from him, almost colliding with the tent poles in the small space. Sarah felt her stomach drop, her heart pounding a mile a minute. “Who said anything about,” She faltered, then gestured wildly with her hand. “ _That_?” Pan grinned. He had forgotten how easy she was to tease; He’d missed it. He leveled her with a look of mock sincerity.

“Well, after yesterday,” He began, his voice grave. She might have believed him if not for the smirk that all but radiated from his eyes. “I thought that’s what people did when they confessed their feelings for each other.” Sarah rolled her eyes with a grunt of frustration. For him to be joking about yesterday, after everything, was unbelievable.

“You’re deranged.” She spat. She whirled on her heel, one stride would take her out of her tent and away from aggravating, egotistical boys with no respect for other people’s feelings. Pan caught her softly by the arm, laughing. She knocked his hand away.

“Sarah.” Something in the soft tone of his voice made her pause. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, irate. He had an odd look on his face. She turned to face him fully, arms crossed. The odd look passed, replaced by one of confidence. “How about some breakfast?” Sarah eyed him suspiciously as with a wave of one hand, a steaming plate appeared in his other. He sank onto her pallet, setting the plate beside him, and motioned for her to join him. Slowly, she did. She wasn’t sure what to think about sitting next to Pan on the place she slept, but she _was_ hungry. Looking down at the plate, breakfast proved to be warm toasted bread, with a sizzling egg in the middle of each piece. Her mouth watered.

Pan, not waiting for her to decide that he hadn’t poisoned it, picked one up and dug in with gusto. Sarah stared at him as he did so. After a moment, he noticed. “What?” Crumbs tumbled from his mouth – none of the Lost Boys were known for their table manners. Sarah blinked.

“Nothing.” She said, shaking her head. “It’s just…” Pan furrowed his brows, confused. “All this time I’ve been on the island, I don’t believe I’ve seen you eat before.” It was nice to know he did, in fact, need to eat. It was one more check mark in the “human” rather than “actual hell-spawned demon” category. Pan swallowed, looking at her with brow raised.

“I am human, you know.” Sarah snorted. “Well…” He smirked. “Mostly.” She stared, uncertain if he was joking or not. He probably was, but a small part of her believed him anyway. When he grinned, she tore her eyes away and picked up one of his breakfast creations. Her eyes lit up when she bit into it. Especially after not having eaten since her lunch yesterday, it was _good_.  Seeing her enjoyment, Pan gave a satisfied nod. By the time she finished her first, Pan had already eaten a third and, full now, sat watching her as she picked up a second. Sarah fidgeted under his gaze.

“What?” She asked at last. “What is it?” There was a gleam in his eye that made her nervous. Pan smiled.   

“Can’t I look at my Lost Girl?” When his voice took on that innocent tone, she knew it could only mean one thing: trouble. Usually for her.

“Maybe when you can do it without looking like you’re about to eat me.” Sarah grumbled. She tore a particularly aggressive bite from her breakfast. Pan raised an eyebrow, running his eyes over her as though he were considering just that. She finished the rest of her food in a rush. “Right.” She said firmly. “Thanks for breakfast, I’m off.” They had both admitted to having…some sort of feelings for each other, whatever they were, and that was all well and good. But what was to be done about those feelings was something else entirely, and Sarah wasn’t at all sure she wanted to have that conversation just yet. Or ever. Pan caught her before she could stand up.

“Why the rush, Lost Girl?” He asked brightly. She looked away, not wanting him to see how nervous she felt.

“Things to do.” Pan arched his brows. She was acting oddly, even for her. Sarah scrabbled for a further explanation, since that didn’t seem to be enough. “Promised Arthur and company I’d see them this morning to tell them where I’ve been, remember? So,” She gulped. Pan had drawn her face back towards him with his hand. “I had better go do that…” Her voice tapered off to a whisper. If she had thought the vexatiously hypnotic quality of his eyes would disappear after their mutual heart-baring, she had been wrong. He was staring at her seriously, trying to determine what it was that had her so on edge. He hadn’t threatened her in days, it didn’t make sense for her to be afraid.

“What’s got you so on edge?” He mused. Her jaw clenched. After all his ribbing, she didn’t want to tell him – he’d just make fun of her, she was sure of it. He drew his hand away, frowning. “Sarah, I’m not going to hurt you.” He’d misunderstood the source of her nerves. “I would have thought that would be obvious after yesterday,” He paused, seeing Sarah’s poorly covered wince. His face darkened. “Or is this about yesterday?” A chill crept over his voice. “Having second thoughts, are we?” Sarah looked at him sharply.

“That’s not – ” Not it, but not entirely wrong. Pan scowled, and an uncomfortable silence followed. He opened his mouth to speak – whatever he was about to say, the look in his eyes told her it wouldn’t be pleasant – but she cut him off.  “I don’t know what to do about you.” She blurted. Pan closed his mouth, blinking in confusion. Whatever nasty comment he’d been about to make died in his throat. Sarah’s mouth formed an uncomfortably thin line, and she stared hard at the ground in front of her pallet. At last Pan sighed, leaning back on his elbows to stare at the roof of her tent.

“Well, Lost Girl. Your guess is as good as mine.” Sarah looked over at him. It was comforting, in a way, to think that the great Peter Pan was just as confused by this whole situation as she was. On the other hand, it would have been nice if at least one of them had an idea of how to move forward. _What did you expect?_ She scolded herself. _That after one conversation you’d just pick up like Arthur and Xavier, as though nothing else had ever happened between you?_ No, there was too much between them for it to be as simple as that. And then, of course, there was the problem of who she actually cared about. She’d told Pan she wanted an idea of him, and he’d said he wanted to be that side of himself, but that didn’t make the old, cold darkness that so often swirled in his eyes disappear from his being. _Or yours._ She fell backwards with a sigh.

“You really don’t think mine’s more comfortable?” Her reclining was short lived as with a yelp, she bolted upright again. As lost in thought as she had been, she’d forgotten Pan was leaning back right next to where her head had just been. Pan propped himself up on his side, looking at her distastefully. “I may not know what we’re doing, but here’s an idea: we could start with you not jumping away from me at every moment of the day.” He then added, in a voice she thought bordered on sulking, “You’d think I was a snake.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. “As if you haven’t spent every day since I came to the island trying to startle, frighten, or otherwise unnerve me.” She accused. “You’ll excuse me if I’m a little skittish.” Pan grinned.

“I told you once, Lost Girl – you’re cute when you’re afraid.” To hide her warming cheeks, and because he was trying her patience, Sarah scowled. “Oh come on, Sarah.” He needled. “It’s just a little teasing.” It wasn’t of course, or at least not entirely. He couldn’t help it if he enjoyed her fear, though he didn’t know if he still would after the startling revelation that he felt…however it was he felt about her. Sarah’s scowl did not relent. For her part, she believed no one she’d ever met had been as apt an example of devil disguised as angel as the boy lounging beside her. With his boyishly innocent face, it would have been easy to take his assurances at their face value if she didn’t know any better.

Fortunately, she did. “I know too much to buy that, Peter.” She told him dryly. “You already told me fear is how you control your Lost Boys, remember?” Pan shrugged. “And if,” She paused, gritting her teeth. She waved her hand between them. “ _This_ is going to work, you have to get it through your head that I will _not_ be controlled.” Pan’s eyes glimmered wickedly.

“So there _is_ a this.” Sarah glared.

“You’re impossible.” She growled, pushing herself up from her pallet. Pan grinned up at her as the first drops of rain hit her tent. They fell sparsely at first, in individual droplets that struck off the canvas like the plink of a rubber band pulled too tight. Then all at once the droplets were a deluge, and Sarah raced to tie the flaps of the tent closed to keep as much water out as she could. With a feeling of dread, she turned back around to see Pan sitting neatly upright, face as innocent as a church mouse. _He didn’t…_ Sarah shook her head. The thought was too ridiculous – Pan might be powerful, but surely he had no sway over the weather? Pan smiled sweetly, though there was no hiding the mischievous tug at the corner of his mouth that threatened to turn the smile into a smirk.

“Best get comfortable, Lost Girl – something tells me we’re in for a long wait.”


	53. Trouble

Resigning herself to her fate, Sarah sat back down at the edge of her pallet, as far away from Pan as she could be without sitting on the ground. The prospect of being alone with him, in a confined space, for an unforeseeable amount of time raised her hackles. “Right.” She forced her voice as closely as she could to a conversational tone. “Well. What is it you all do when you’re not running around like a pack of heathens?” Pan moulded his face to an expression of concern.

“I thought it would be nice for us to talk.” He felt a thrill at the flash of fear that darted across her eyes. Well, that answered one question at least. After everything that she had gone through on the island, it amused him that she should be afraid of a simple conversation, of all things. Ordinarily he might have felt the same way – but seeing how much it unnerved her made the prospect much more appealing. Sarah scanned his face as if trying to determine if he were serious.

“Fine.” She narrowed her eyes. “You go first.” Pan’s brows furrowed.

“What?” Sarah grimaced.

“If you want to talk, fine. You go first.” She had trusted him last night – but she hadn’t forgotten about the first time she shared her feelings with him, and she wasn’t keen on a repeat. Pan stared at the ground in front of him, suddenly quiet. She snorted. “I thought you wanted to talk?” Even she was surprised at the bite in her voice. She hadn’t meant to sound so acerbic, but his apparent reversion to his more typical behaviour left her nerves feeling raw. Pan’s eyes snapped up to hers, and she moved back instinctively. She could see the hint of shadow falling over them that signaled his anger. Seeing her response, he frowned. He didn’t enjoy _all_ of her fear, it appeared.

“I –” He stopped, eyes slipping away from hers. “I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.” He grumbled. He was beginning to think Sarah’s fear of conversation might not be so strange after all. Sarah let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. As she took in how uncomfortable he looked, she felt some of her nerves slip away. Some, but not all.

“What?” She needled. “Aren’t you proud of your handiwork?” Pan gave her a dark look, and she sighed. “Look, let’s…” She reached a hand behind her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “Just, not talk about this? At least not yet?” Pan gave a stiff nod. She scanned his face with a calculating expression. Her eyes narrowed. “But if you say the word “lovers” one more time, Peter,” She paused, trying to think of an actionable threat. Pan raised his brow, amused.

“Is that what’s got you so on edge?” He demanded. Sarah grit her teeth, and he smirked. “I don’t see what the problem is.” He gestured airily. “I want you, you want me,”

“An _idea_ of you.” Sarah clarified. Pan shrugged. Him, an idea of him – it all boiled down to the same thing, really. “Fine.” Sarah grumped. “I guess we’re talking about this.” Pan opened his mouth, but Sarah silenced him with a sharp look. “You said last night that I make you weak, Peter. What does that mean?” Pan’s grin vanished.

“It – ” He looked off, grumbling, “It means what you think it means.”

“That’s not an answer.” He scowled, and Sarah sighed – they were going in circles here. “Look, Peter.” She stopped, unsure if she could form a sentence that wouldn’t end with him getting angry – or worse, mocking her. “Last night, you – it seemed like you,” He was looking back up at her now, with a piercing gaze that made it even harder to form her thoughts into sentences. “It seemed like you cared.” She finished quietly. “About…me.” She chewed her lip nervously. When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “Asking me to come back, apologising, saying the Lost Boys missed me. But then today you’re just so, so – ” she faltered, trying to find the word to describe his behaviour. “Well, _you_.”  Pan’s eyes remained locked with her own.

“And you don’t like that.” It didn’t sound like a question. His eyes narrowed for a fractional second. “I am who I am, Sarah.” A feeling of unease reached up, crawling over him. He didn’t like the direction their conversation was going.

“And who you are is someone who’s hurt me, frightened me, and manipulated me.” Sarah replied, struggling to keep her voice even. “For _fun_. You said you won’t hurt me, but how long does that last? Until you get bored? Until I do something you don’t like, or don’t do something you want?” Pan’s jaw tightened. “What does it say about me if I care about someone like that, who treats me that way?”

“I said I wouldn’t.” Sarah’s gaze hardened. He’d said a lot of things. “I – look, Sarah, teasing you is one thing, but I just.” He huffed and looked away. “I can’t do things like that to you. Not anymore.” He glanced back up at her guarded expression. “When I see you in pain, I feel…” His face twisted as though he had seen something unpleasant. “Helpless.” He spat.

“Good.” His eyes speared back to her face in shock. Good? Good that he felt helpless, him, the leader of the Lost Boys? It was anything but. “Now you know how it feels.” Sarah’s eyes flickered downwards, and he felt that odd fluttering sensation in his stomach. If he’d made her feel helpless before – and he probably had, he was very good at what he did – he’d make up for it now. He was about to tell her as much when she spoke again. “I want you to promise me.” A serious aura had settled about her, one that made him at last sit up from where he’d been lounging. “You told me once you always keep your promises, so promise me.” He wasn’t sure when she had moved, but she was no longer at the far edge of the pallet.

She had the same look in her eyes that she’d had right before she vanished, as though she were daring him to prove that everything that had passed between them was a show, and that she was wrong to trust him even as little as she did. He edged closer to her, until he was near enough to sweep one of her clenched fists into his hands. He could see her breathing had quickened – it was a match for his own. When he spoke, his voice was low and smooth, barely audible over the fierce rain. “I, Peter Pan, promise you, Sarah Everett, that I will never hurt you.” A slight smile crept over his face. “On purpose.” And as an afterthought, “Unless you hurt me first.” Sarah snorted, the serious mood broken.

“Always something with you.” She remarked. As if she had ever attacked Pan unprovoked. Well, other than the time with the spoon. Suddenly, Pan’s expression turned serious again. He brought her fist up to the level of their eyes. Sarah’s heart bumped into the breath caught in her throat as he slowly pressed the back of her hand to his lips. He never broke eye contact.

“I promise, Sarah.”

“That’s – ” Sarah choked, panicking. “That’s against the rules.” Perhaps because she challenged him, or perhaps because he wanted to, he repeated the gesture.

“I’m not playing a game with you anymore.” It was then that Sarah realised J.M. Barrie hadn’t gotten a great deal correct about the boy who never grew up, but in one respect he had hit the nail on the proverbial head. Though she imagined Barrie had intended a different context, Peter Pan was indeed possessed of a voice that, she suspected, no woman had ever yet been able to resist. A twitch of motion in his arm called her attention back to her situation, and she drew her hand away quickly before Pan could repeat his action a third time. The small space of her tent suddenly felt much smaller, and if it wasn’t her imagination, much warmer as well.

“The rule stands.” She finally managed, in a thin and reedy voice. Pan ran his eyes repeatedly over her face, until at last with the faintest of laughs, he smiled.

“I believe I said, I wouldn’t kiss you again until you wanted me to.” This was dangerous territory, as was the roguish gleam in his eye. Sarah gulped. “Tell me you don’t want me to.” Yes, the esteemed Scottish playwright would never know exactly how right he had been. Sarah’s eyelids fluttered closed – she might not be able to block his voice, but she could at least keep from looking into his eyes.

“I don’t want you to.” She said softly. “Not…not yet.” When – no, _if_ – he showed her he really could be the Pan she had seen those flashes of, well…maybe. She didn’t want to let herself think about it, because she knew if she did so once she would do it again, and if that happened she might get suckered into wanting to return those kisses before she knew he could really be trusted. Pan reached out to stroke her cheek. She shied away at first, but his touch was soft enough, gentle enough, that she ultimately allowed it.

“Yet,” He pondered, a determined smile on his face. “That’s a challenge I’m willing to take.” He drew his hand away as the sounds of rain tapered off above. As the last drop fell, he stood, stepping away from her pallet to untie the tent flaps. He paused to smile at Sarah, an unreadable look in his eye. “Just you wait, Lost Girl.” He radiated confidence. “Peter Pan never fails.”  Before she could respond, he had slipped out to the wet grounds of the camp. Sarah remained seated, absentmindedly running her fingers over the place Pan’s lips had been. When she realised what she was doing, she shook herself. She looked to the tent flaps with a laughing sigh before tilting her head upward to look at her canvas roof.

“I am in so much trouble.”

 


	54. Questions

When her heartbeat at last slowed to a more reasonable pace, she stood and left the tent herself. Her eyes skirted over the camp, made damp and dreary by the heavy fall of the heavens. It was quiet, with only a few of the boys venturing out from the safety of their nice, dry tents. It was beautiful. There was no sign of Pan, something that in equal measure disappointed and relieved her. A promise was good. But even if he really did change his behaviour towards her, that would have to be explained to the Lost Boys – a task she found almost more daunting than hanging over the edge of a cliff. _Yes, hello boys. Remember when I told you your leader was an evil weasel hell-bent on murdering me? Well, now we’re…something. I don’t know what. Stop laughing, Xavier._ At least with the cliff, it would have been over quickly if she’d fallen.

Still, she had promised some sort of an explanation the night prior – or at least promised to tell them where she was. She caught sight of Arthur trying to start up a fire – not only had the rain cooled the jungle immensely, she could tell even from here that he’d gotten caught in the downpour. A fire would help him dry much more quickly. She walked to where he knelt, and the two hoods watching him work proved to be Felix and Loto. A loud snore from nearby told her at least one of Arthur’s tentmates was still sleeping. “Playing in the rain, Arthur?” She asked brightly as she approached. Arthur looked up with a warm smile.

“Taking a morning walk – the storm came up out of nowhere, so I figured I might as well take my yearly bath while I was at it.” Sarah laughed, and knelt on one of the nearby logs. It was too damp for proper sitting, but she didn’t mind if her knees got a bit wet. It was then that she noticed Loto was staring at her. She raised an eyebrow.

“Where have you _been_?” He demanded. Normally if a Lost Boy didn’t return to camp, it could only mean one of two things: they had been banished, or they had died. The latter was more usual, and usually followed the former in any case. Not to mention, the timing of her disappearance and Pan’s frighteningly dark mood were too close to be a coincidence. He eyed the Lost Girl with suspicion, trying to work out an answer he felt was in front of him but couldn’t quite piece together. Sarah shrugged sheepishly.

“Oh, you know.” She tried. “Around.” Arthur raised one brow. She had promised to tell them where she’d been, she realised, but – she glanced over to Felix. He was carving away at something, looking for all the world as though he weren’t even listening to their conversation. Sarah suspected that was a front. She didn’t know the extent of Felix’s knowledge about what had passed to make her disappear, but something told her it was wider than she might wish.

“More to the point,” Loto interrupted her musings. “What did you _do_? Pan was –” Watching him as she was, she caught the silencing look Felix shot to her questioner. That was odd. What was Pan, while she was gone, that had Loto so worked up and Felix playing coverup? She filed that tidbit away for later. Perhaps she could wheedle an answer out of Felix, or more likely out of Xavier. For once his big mouth might come in handy.

“I didn’t do a thing.” She told him breezily. It was close enough to the truth. “Just needed to get away for a while.” Loto narrowed his eyes. He could tell there was much more to the story, but he couldn’t think of a way to draw it from her. Maybe he’d try to get Xavier to find out later. There were times his rival’s big mouth annoyed him, but perhaps for once it could be useful.

From the corner of her eye, Sarah saw that Felix was watching her now. She shifted on her log. Had Felix known, or at least suspected, that Pan’s behaviour was not an act after all? If he hadn’t, that would mean he’d been willing to help Pan trick her, and she wasn’t certain how she felt about that. On the one hand, it shouldn’t surprise her. His loyalty to Pan was unquestionable, and it wasn’t as though they were friends. Even so, that Felix would care so little about her feelings in the matter tugged at her strangely. There was also the chance he didn’t know that Pan was serious, and that right now he thought she had fallen for his tricks just like “everybody” else, whoever they were. That didn’t sit well with her either, nor did the unquiet nag in the back of her mind that suggested whatever she had thought she’d seen or felt, this really was all still just an act.

“Sarah?” Her attention snapped back towards Arthur, who had paused in his firemaking to try and recall her attention from wherever it had drifted off to. Seeing no comprehension on her face, he repeated the question she’d just ignored. “You said you’d tell us where you’ve been hiding that none of us could find you?” Sarah blinked. Something passed briefly behind her eyes – he couldn’t tell what, Rasheed was the one who was good at reading people – but the next moment she was smiling.

“Where wasn’t I?” She asked lightly. Something about her tone seemed off, as though she were trying to hide something. Arthur frowned. “I did see you, once or twice you know. But –” Whatever it was flashed behind her eyes again. “Actually, maybe I should wait until the others are up – I bet Xavier would be unbearable if he knew he’d missed the story.” Her eyes skittered away from him, and then she was standing. “And for right now, actually, I need Felix to help me take care of something for Pan.” Arthur and Loto exchanged looks – they didn’t know what Sarah actually wanted Felix for, but that was a lie if they had ever heard one.

Felix, however, showed no sign of disbelieving her. After a moment he stood as well, walking with her away from camp. Arthur returned to striking his flint with a vengeance, trying to catch the tinder in the damp air. “So,” Loto began slowly. “You know Sarah best – that was weird, right?” Arthur turned to look at Loto, sighed, and returned to his business. It _had_ been weird, but he was starting to suspect he didn’t know Sarah nearly so well as he thought.

Sarah led Felix well away from camp before she at last stopped, whirling on him with vehemence. “How much did you know?” Felix swirled the stick in his mouth.

“You drag me all the way out here just for that?” Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Got to say, I am surprised you lasted so long out there.” He leaned his head towards her. “Just where _were_ you hiding, little bird?” Sarah stuck out her jaw.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.” She could be obstinate too, if he was going to be. To her disappointment, Felix shrugged.

“Can’t say I really care that much.” He drawled, and turned as if to go back to camp. Sarah appeared in front of him, blocking his path. If he was surprised, it didn’t show on his face. “More like Pan every day.” He mused, and Sarah scowled. He knew how little she appreciated the comparison. “Don’t tell me you’re insulted,” His voice dripped with mocking sincerity. “When you and Pan are so cosy now?” Her scowl deepened.

“We are not,” She paused, glancing away. “We are not _cosy_.” Felix stared down at her with an expression of skeptic amusement. She brought her eyes back up to his face, her expression turing sly. A different line of attack had occurred to her. “But if I _am_ cosy with your leader, what’s the harm in telling me what I want to know?” Felix snorted.

“Maybe you should ask Pan.” Her scowl returned.

“I don’t trust him farther than I can throw him.” She told Felix flatly. It was mostly true, even now.

“And yet here you are, back in camp.” Felix lifted his club to point at her neck. “Even put that trinket of yours back on.” He blew out a long breath. “Seems to me you trust him just fine.” Sarah’s mouth tightened to a thin line.

“You think I’ve fallen for one of his tricks, don’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question, and more of an accusation than a statement. Felix didn’t respond. Privately, he wasn’t sure what to think. Pan’s behaviour while Sarah was missing had been odd, even for him. Felix might have chalked it up to his anger over not being able to sense her presence, or the small “improvements” they kept running into as the days wore on, but something in his leader’s manner suggested that perhaps there was something else at play entirely. It seemed too much to believe, for Felix at any rate, that Pan might actually feel something towards Sarah other than a desire to control, break, or use her, but the evidence told him such a thing just might be. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am, Felix.” He brought his attention back to the glaring girl in front of him.

“Maybe you’re not.” He almost laughed at the shock on Sarah’s face – Felix nearly agreeing with her was not something she’d expected. “You lasted longer than I thought, at any rate. But I seem to recall telling you Pan always gets what he wants.” He smiled with condescension. “And it looks like I was right.” Sarah shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s not,” She protested. “It’s not like that.” _Isn’t it?_ Her mind needled. _Are you really so sure, when Felix even thinks so? Felix, who Pan seems to tell every little thing that passes between you?_ She turned a serious gaze up to the blonde giant. “Would you tell me?” She was surprised at the sharpness of her own voice, but now that she had spoken she realised it was very important to her to know whether she’d been wrong to reconsider Felix’s place on her list of enemies. Felix did not react. She continued, a little less certain of herself, “If this was still part of his game. Would you tell me?” He raised his brows.

“I thought I told you not to get sentimental, Lost Girl.” A hard edge of warning traced his voice. “If you want to know Pan’s business so badly, ask him yourself.” He took a deep breath as though covering a yawn. “Are we done here?” Sarah crossed her arms

“I’m not asking about Pan’s business.” Her voice was firm. “I’m asking about yours. And, frankly, mine.” Felix stared back at her, looking bored as she’d ever seen him. “Fine.” She spat at last. “Yes, I guess we’re done here.” Felix eyed her watchfully.

“Careful, Lost Girl.” He smiled an unpleasant knife’s edge smile. “Wouldn’t want that temper of yours to flare up again.” For a moment, he saw the shadows flicker over her eyes. It might have occurred to him then that Sarah had learned several new tricks since he’d fought her last, teleportation at the very least, and that if she did lose control of herself again it might prove to be unpleasant for him. It might have occurred to him, but whether it did or not he made no outward sign. Fortunately he wouldn’t have to find out, as the shadow flickered away and Sarah stepped disgruntledly from his path. “So what _are_ you going to tell the Lost Boys about your disappearance?” His voice was deceptively cheerful once more as he began walking back to camp.

Sarah scowled after him. “Maybe you should ask them yourself.” She muttered. “Or maybe I’ll tell them I ran off because their fearless leader can’t handle _feelings_.” Felix stopped abruptly. When he turned, she stepped back. The expression on his face was darker than she’d seen since coming to the island, even darker than when she’d threatened to burn him to a crisp. She took another step back and began thinking of her willow tree, just in case she needed to make a quick escape.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, little girl.” Felix warned. His lips were curled in a near snarl. “You have no idea what Pan is capable of.” Sarah stared, wide-eyed, as Felix towered over her. “I don’t know what you think is going on between you, but if you trifle with him, you. Will not. Survive.” Sarah swallowed hard.

“Is that –” She tried to will her voice more even. “Is that what happened to the “everyone” you told me about?” It was incredible how threatening Felix could make a smile.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to ask questions you don’t want answers to?” Sarah shuddered. With this new warning in mind, Pan’s promise to her this morning felt much farther away, and much less reassuring.  Seeing her suitably cowed by his warning, Felix reverted to a more relaxed posture. “Take my advice this time, Lost Girl.” He drawled, turning away from her to resume their course towards camp. “I don’t want to deal with dragging your heavy corpse across the island if you don’t.”


	55. Answers

Sarah was quiet all the way back. Arthur had gotten his fire going by the time they returned, and been further joined by Nibs and Rasheed. There was no sign of Xavier yet, which she counted as a blessing. She still needed to work out what she would tell them about her disappearance, especially in light of Felix’s warning. She glanced over to the boy in question. It had been foolish of her to think he would give her any answers, especially any answers regarding Pan. Still, something had come of the conversation at least: a reality check. She needed to stay on her guard with Pan, whatever he promised, whatever noisome pangs her heart made about distrusting him.

Felix left her without another word, leaving her once more alone and uncertain at the edge of camp. She wouldn’t remain that way for long, as Nibs soon caught sight of her and waved her over. She walked slowly to join them. Arthur frowned at her demeanour as she approached. “Something the matter, Sarah?” He asked. She shook her head carefully.

“No. Just…” She grimaced. “Felix. Being himself.” Nibs snorted – all the Lost Boys feared and respected the older boy, but he had seen first hand how little Sarah liked him. It was hard to say how Felix might feel in return, though he did seem to talk to her more often than most new arrivals. Of course, Felix’s version of “talking” was rarely something to be desired. Unless he was in a good mood, or whatever passed for a good mood with Felix, trying to hold a conversation with him was something akin to hugging a honeylocust. “Xavier still asleep?” Sarah tried to change the subject. “He must sleep like the dead for all of you to leave the tent without waking him.” Arthur smiled.  

“You have no idea.” Then he stood. “But I think it’s high time he woke up – and then you can tell us where you’ve been.” Sarah smiled to cover her rising dread. _Think fast_ , she told herself. Arthur returned, much too quickly for her happiness, with a bleary-eyed Xavier. With a kiss to the cheek, Arthur whispered to remind him why they were waiting for him in the first place. His lethargy vanished with a rapidity she envied. Where did all his energy come from, she wondered?

“Alright, you said you’d tell us in the morning, and it’s morning, so tell us!” Xavier’s words tumbled out in a stream. She wasn’t sure how much was just-awoken disorientation and how much was his natural buoyancy. “Where have you _been_? Why didn’t any of us see you? Why did you –” Nibs shot him a hard look, and Arthur silenced his lover with a hand to his lips.

“Let her talk.” He murmured softly. Xavier growled, but settled nonetheless. He peered at Sarah expectantly, and she sighed.

“I’ve been exploring the island.” Sarah began. “I’ve been all over, and as to why you didn’t see me – well. You already know I can teleport now.” She smiled sheepishly. She didn’t want them thinking too hard about her magic, didn’t want them to draw any more similarities between her and Pan than they might already have done just from the porting. “So I haven’t really been hiding anywhere in particular. I’d just move to a different part of the island whenever I saw one of you. The pond one day, a different tree in the jungle the next – I even spent a few days at those ledges with the rope between them, until I heard you and Loto arguing about something down below me.” Xavier’s eyes narrowed.

“But why?” He demanded. They’d been arguing about her, as it happened. Loto had been trying to tell him she was definitely dead, or would be soon, and that there was no sense in worrying about her. Xavier had told him he didn’t know what he was talking about, and that if she were dead Pan wouldn’t still be stalking all over the island every day. Loto had responded that if Xavier thought their leader was expending all that energy over a girl he must have been hit too many times in the head, and the two had ended up fighting. He was glad to see that he’d been right, but that Sarah would be so close while he was trying to defend her – that she had known he was nearby even, and chose to stay hidden – rankled. “Why would you hide from us?” An unexpected feeling of guilt prickled over her. Xavier’s vehemence almost sounded _hurt_. Sarah shifted uncomfortably.

“I…didn’t think I could face you.” Xavier’s frown deepened. “I thought you all might,” She paused, uncertain how to explain without telling them what had actually happened. “I had a…falling out, with Pan. And I know how loyal you all are to him. I thought camp would be…unwelcoming.” The boys exchanged looks. Nibs furrowed his brows and frowned.

“When were you ever _in_ with him?” He asked, confused. Sarah stared tight-lipped into the fire; it was easier than trying to meet any of their eyes. At last she opened her mouth to speak, but Arthur cut her off.

“It doesn’t matter why you left. You’re back now, and that’s what counts.” Nibs looked as though he wanted to argue, but a subtle look from Arthur put an end to it. Xavier required less subtle measures, and Sarah smiled gratefully as she watched Arthur tighten his arm around the boy to tell him to be silent. Unfortunately for her, Arthur’s two-front battle to keep her from uncomfortable questioning left her vulnerable from an unexpected third avenue of attack. Rasheed, who if she’d been paying more attention she might have seen was unusually interested in what she had to say, was not willing to let the matter drop as easily.

“You have returned after the falling-out. Does this mean you have fallen in?” Sarah snapped her eyes over to the young boy, who stared back at her expressionless. It did not feel right that someone who looked so young should have such an old gaze. She found it difficult to hold eye contact, and soon looked away again.

“No?” Her voice came out much too high for her liking. This was a conversation she distinctly did not want to have. How could she explain something she didn’t understand herself? And with Felix’s warning still fresh in her mind, she wasn’t even sure it was something she should be trying to explain. The silence that followed was deafening.

“You are very bad at lying.” Rasheed’s calm observation split the air. She gulped, waiting for a storm to break.

“Why would you lie about that?” Poor Nibs was not nearly so astute as Rasheed, for all his apparent advantage of age. “Finally getting along with Pan is a good thing, isn’t it?” He nodded firmly. “I told Kasim you’d come around eventually, once you saw how much good Pan did for us.” Sarah blinked. Nibs hadn’t guessed what Rasheed was hinting at, though from Arthur’s worried expression she guessed he had. Xavier seemed more than happy to accept Nibs’ interpretation of events, something she was glad of. What he lacked in Rasheed’s perception he tended to make up for with his sheer volume of curiosity.    

She opened her mouth to agree, but then closed it. It felt like lying, and she felt strangely averse to lying to these boys she considered as friends. Still, she couldn’t very well tell them the truth. “Well,” She tried for a breezy tone. “That’s what I’ve been up to – hiding out, exploring the island, enjoying a life free from games and fights. Why don’t you catch me up on what’s been happening in camp?” The boys exchanged looks again, all save Rasheed – he kept his gaze on Sarah. Although they didn’t know the extent to which Pan’s dark mood had been caused by her disappearance, they knew it was connected. And with her back in camp, something told them they’d be stepping on thin ice to tell her about what had passed while she was gone. Arthur in particular had caught Felix’s silencing look towards Loto earlier, but even Nibs and Xavier knew their leader well enough to know that sharing his business could be hazardous to one’s health.

Sarah furrowed her brows. This made for the second time – the third, if she counted Felix – that someone had been loathe to tell her about what had happened during her absence. That even Xavier wasn’t speaking pushed her feelings from confusion to the border of worry. “Did,” She began carefully, “Did something happen while I was gone?” Xavier was now avoiding her eyes. She could tell he was almost bursting with the effort to keep from sharing whatever secret the Lost Boys felt bound to keep.

“You’re back now.” Arthur repeated as last. “And that’s what matters.” There was a firmness to his voice that told her not to press them further. Not in a threatening way, as Felix’s warning had been, but rather one that appealed to her respect for him as a friend. The two shared a look, silently acknowledging that each had secrets that were perhaps better left unshared. Then, Arthur smiled, determined to shake off the somber mood of their circle. “While you were gone, did you practice anything we taught you?” The smile slipped to a grin, and Sarah felt the weight around her heart lighten considerably. “Or is the “Teach Sarah How to Not Suck” school back to lesson one?”  She returned his grin with one of her own, happy for the moment to push her myriad worries to the back of her mind.

“Why don’t you try me, Arthur?” She offered. “I learned a few tricks while I was gone, I might even surprise you!” Arthur laughed as the seriousness of their gathering flowed away as on a stream. Xavier was soon excitedly pestering her to show off her teleportation again, and only Rasheed remained thinking about the changed dynamics between Lost Girl and leader, and what such changes might mean for an island of Lost Boys.


	56. Answers II

While Sarah forgot her troubles, Felix went seeking his leader for answers of his own. Any other boy who went to find Pan at his thinking tree, his particular place for being alone, would have reaped a world of hurt. But he and Pan had known each other a long time, and while neither would call the other one a friend, the length and nature of their relationship did give Felix some advantages. When he arrived, he gazed silently up into the tree at his leader. Pan was leaning back against the trunk on one of the branches, eyes closed, with his fingers tapping against his leg. Without opening his eyes, he called in a bored tone, “What is it, Felix?” Felix waited a long moment before answering. Pan was just starting to get annoyed – his lieutenant’s laconic tendencies could be grating at times – when he spoke at last.

“Sarah’s been asking questions.” His tone was light, as though he were remarking on the weather, but Pan knew him well enough to detect the warning laced through his voice. Pan’s face twitched in a smile as his eyes fluttered open.

“Questions, Felix?” He barked a laugh. “I hope you didn’t interrupt my thinking just for that.” When no answer came, Pan frowned. He looked down and saw a strangely calculating look on the face of his companion. The expression was not unusual for Felix, but the expression in his company was. Pan leapt gracefully from the tree, landing in a crouch. As he straightened, he fixed the taller boy with a hard stare. “And just what is it that has you so tongue-tied today?” He asked dryly. “Rather quiet, even for you.” When no response came, his tone turned sharp. “Out with it, Felix.”

When Felix spoke at last, the words came slowly. Pan could tell he was trying to step carefully, and a spark of something almost like worry lit in the back of his mind. “Just wondering what the plan is, now that the little bird’s flown back home.” Felix glanced off to the side. “She’s getting awfully curious, and some of the other boys are getting…” He brought his eyes back. “Attached to her.” Pan scowled.

“So she’s fitting in.” He sniped. “That hardly seems like cause for alarm.” Felix stifled a yawn.

“Might cause some problems down the road.” He observed. In general, he didn’t doubt the loyalty of the other Lost Boys. He knew too well where they had come from, what Pan had taken them from, to think that they’d turn on him without heavy provocation. But he wasn’t a fool, either. Friendship could do strange things to people, and every inch further that Sarah went toward the other Lost Boys seeing her as one of them, was one step likelier that they might take issue if Pan decided she didn’t belong on the island, after all – or even if he decided that she’d be better off in the cages. Of course, another option for Sarah’s fate might preclude such problems – but Felix didn’t think he could ask about that without danger.

“And what sort of problems are you envisioning, Felix?” Pan was no fool, and he knew very well that his second was no fool either. Felix might just be warning him about a problem, sure – but Pan had the feeling he was also being pumped for information. He rolled his eyes. “Why don’t we stop dancing about, and you tell me what you’re really here for?” Felix raised his brows, waiting to speak as though turning over options in his mind. After a while, he looked out into the jungle.

“Seems like the game has changed.” Pan’s eyes hardened. Now he understood what Felix was getting at. His first instinct was to snap that nothing had changed, and Felix was ridiculous to even think such a thing. But if that got back to Sarah – and he had a feeling it would, one way or another – he knew she’d disappear all over again. He doubted he’d be able to bring her back a second time. Pan clenched his jaw as a long silence stretched between them.

“And if it has?” Felix blew out a long puff of air.

“I’d have to say I’m surprised.” Though his tone was light, he saw the jaw twitch that signaled danger in his leader. He shrugged. “Of course, she’s already proved more interesting than I expected.” Pan’s jaw relaxed. It was impossible to tell what exactly Felix was thinking – but it seemed he didn’t have to worry about any loss of loyalty from his oldest Lost Boy, at least. Felix glanced back towards him. “But if that’s the way things are, I should warn you – she still doesn’t trust you.” It was Pan’s turn to look off into the jungle, though his look was closer to a glare.

“I know.” He grumbled. He was making progress though, wasn’t he? He counted this morning as progress. But for Felix to be so certain…he remembered then Felix’s original excuse for tracking him down. He turned his gaze sharply back to his lieutenant. “Just what questions was our little bird asking?” Felix stared back at him.

“She wanted to know what your plan was.” He replied evenly. “Before the game changed.” He swung his club up behind him, resting his hand behind his back. “How much I knew.” He didn’t mention that she had asked if he would tell her if Pan was still trying to trick her. He knew he would never betray Pan, but he also knew his leader had a tendency towards paranoia for these things. He inclined his head. “And she asked about the others.” Pan scrunched his brows.

“Others? What others?” Felix raised his brows. Oh. Those others. “They didn’t matter.” He said airily. “What did you tell her?” Felix shrugged.

“I told her not to ask questions she didn’t want the answer to.” Pan’s nostrils flared. He could just see trying to explain _that_ later. If she talked to him at all, she’d probably demand to know how many girls he’d murdered, or something similarly ridiculous.

“I’m trying to convince her I’m _not_ a monster, Felix.” Felix raised his eyebrows. “Alright, I’m trying to convince her I’m not _just_ a monster.” Felix wouldn’t have called Pan a monster. He had done things many people would call terrible, but Felix was a firm believer in the ends justifying the means. And for the ends Pan was aiming for, Felix could justify just about anything. No, Pan had done too much for him, for all of them, for Felix to ever call him a monster – but “monster” was never an epithet Pan had shrunk from before, and that he would be willing to set aside the darker parts of himself, even just for show, was surprising. “At least until I can show her monsters have more fun.” Pan added, grumbling. Whatever he told her, the truth was that he had not given up his plan to make her embrace her darker side. Certain…complications, had arisen, but if he was going to change for her it only seemed fair that she should change for him.

A sly smile slid over Felix’s face. “You always _have_ liked a challenge.” He noted. Though he didn’t fear Pan, possibly the only person on the island who didn’t, he was pleased nonetheless that the danger of an outburst had passed. Pan laughed sarcastically.

“That I have, Felix.” The two boys shared a look. “That I have.”


	57. Medic

By the time Pan returned to camp, the heavy blanket of dusk was settling over the island. As he neared, the sounds of shouts and cheering reached his ears. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in many days, and he realised now how much effort the Lost Boys had put into maintaining a low profile during Sarah’s absence. A smirk crept over his face – it was good to be feared. He approached the cheering circle of Lost Boys quietly, but stopped short when he saw who was in the middle. Xavier’s shock of red curls bounced with almost as much energy as the boy himself as he swung wildly at his opponent. His opponent was unarmed, but each time he swung at her she would teleport behind him, or to his side, or perhaps just a few feet back. Whatever she had been doing while not in camp, apparently she had gotten over her fear of magic.

 He watched with something like envy the joy that lit up each fighter’s face as she avoided each throw of the blade. She never looked this happy when _they_ were fighting. Still, he supposed it was good to see her in high spirits – from what Felix had told him of their conversation, he’d expected to find her brooding. Silence spread over the circle in a wave as he slipped into it, the cheer falling from each boy’s throat as they caught sight of their leader. The two fighters didn’t notice the change in soundtrack, but when Sarah saw Pan at last, she froze – catching Xavier’s incoming blade across her left arm.

She cried out, and Xavier dropped his blade. His expression flew to anxious concern. “Sarah, you didn’t port! You. I’m – ” Sarah brushed him off with a wave of her hand. She balled up the ripped sleeved around the cut, pressing down on it, and gave him a grim smile.

“What’s the rule, Xavier?” She asked wryly. “We never apologise.” Xavier’s brows knit. Since he’d been expecting her not to take the swing, he hadn’t bothered with controlling his force – her cut likely would not be shallow. “And it’s my fault anyway.” She tried a laugh. “I was...distracted.” The distraction in question had stepped forward without realising it at her exclamation of pain. Now he watched, grim-faced, as red began to creep over the thin bunching of gray fabric. Sarah knocked her good shoulder against Xavier, both arms being otherwise occupied. “I’m going to go take care of this. You’d better be smiling when I get back!” Xavier opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by intercession of a higher power.

Pan stormed over to them, taking Sarah roughly by her uninjured arm. Whatever Xavier might have said, the words died in his throat and he slunk backwards into the circle. When Pan began leading the two away, Sarah hissed at him, “What are you doing? I’m a little busy right now.” Pan could feel how tense she was beneath his grip, and though she had masked it with annoyance, he could also see the latent fear pooling up behind her eyes. Something told him he could thank Felix for that. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip.

“Stop struggling.” He murmured darkly. “We’re going to go take care of…that.” He said the word “that” as though it disgusted him. Sarah laughed nervously.

“It’s just a cut.” She tried. “I’ll be fine, just need to go clean it up and wrap it.” Pan shot her a look, though as she was beside him the effect on her was lost.

“It’s on your upper arm. You’ll need help.” He was driving them towards his tent, and marveling at Sarah’s apparent ability to turn her legs into lead weights.  She tried to shrug him off again.

“I’ll get Arthur to help me.” Seeing Pan had brought Felix’s warning fresh to the front of her mind, and though she didn’t want him to catch on, she was afraid to spend any more time with him in close quarters. She heard a low growl from beside her. They had stopped in front of Pan’s tent, and Sarah felt her heart pound in her throat.

“In.” His tone brooked no disagreement this time, and Sarah at last submitted. He sat her down on his pallet, then sat beside her. With a wave of his hands, clean cloths and a bowl of water sat beside him. He pulled her hand lightly away from the bunch of fabric. The bleeding had slowed but not stopped, and with the pressure off Sarah could feel the pain much more fully. She made a note never to play a game like this again – the cut _hurt_. She watched with a rising horror as Pan took out a small knife.

“What are you doing?” She demanded. “What’s the knife for?” Her answer came as an action. Pan cut into her sleeve, tearing off the fabric below her shoulder. She gaped.

“I need it gone to clean the wound.” He set the knife aside and narrowed his eyes. “Would you have preferred taking it off?” That shut her up. She looked determinedly to the side as a warmth crept over her face. Pan began to carefully peel the fabric off of the cut – evidently she’d been pressing too hard, as she could feel each thread as it came grudgingly unstuck from her flesh. She heard soft splashing as her sleeve slid off her arm. Then, pain. She hissed and clenched the fist of her uninjured arm into the soft furs of the pallet as Pan began to clean out the cut. “Easy, Lost Girl.” His voice was soft now, gentle. Had it come from anyone else she might even have called it soothing. Surprised by this, she risked a glance back over at him.

He stared intently at his work, dabbing at her arm carefully to clean the cut and determine how deep it was. Fortunately, it wasn’t as deep as he had feared. When he was satisfied, he smeared a dark green paste over the area. It had a pleasant smell, like someone had opened all the jars in a spice cabinet. It stung at first, but then cooled to a pleasantly numb sensation. Finally, Pan wrapped the whole thing up in a long muslin bandage. She wondered at first where he had gotten so good at this – but then, she reflected, he would have had to after so many years on an island where the chief pastime appeared to be fighting. Only when he had finished did his concentration break enough to notice that she was watching him. As his eyes rose up to meet hers, Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. With their eyes locked she realised how distressingly intimate this entire procedure had felt. She cleared her throat nervously. “Thanks.” Pan’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second. She shifted uncomfortably, managing at last to skirt her eyes away from his. Did he realise he still had a hand on her arm?

“What were you thinking?” She winced at the loudness of his voice. If he were in the habit of being honest with himself he might admit that his vehemence surprised even him – as it was, he refused to think about it. “Any deeper and this might have needed stitches.” His hand at last fell from her arm. “And I can tell you, Felix isn’t nearly so gentle a medic as I am.” Sarah stared at him. _Is he lecturing me?_ She thought in wonder. _About getting hurt?_ She couldn’t help it. A nervous laugh burbled up from her throat, try as she might to suppress it. The look on Pan’s face turned even darker.

“I’m sorry.” Sarah gasped, trying desperately to get a handle on herself. Especially with Felix’s ominous warning from earlier, she knew she shouldn’t be laughing when Pan looked fit to be tied. “It’s just – the last time I was in here, you cut me yourself, and now – and now you’re,” She lost the battle to another sharp laugh. Pan frowned. She hadn’t lost near enough blood to be silly from it. She got her laughter under control at last, though the corners of her mouth still tugged upwards. “Now it almost seems like you’re _worried_ about me.” Pan’s mouth tightened to a grim line. If there was one thing he despised, it was to be laughed at.

“Fine.” He snapped. “Next time I’ll let you bleed out then, I’m sure I won’t have to wait long if you insist on doing stupid things like this.” He made to stand, but for once it was Sarah who caught his arm. He glared over, annoyed both that she was laughing at him and that it bothered him so much. Hadn’t she been afraid of him only a few minutes before? Maybe she should go back to that.

“Peter.” Her expression was soft, the way it had been the night before. He hated when she looked like that, primarily because he didn’t hate it at all. “Thank you.” Pan looked away, grumbling,

“You said that already.” Sarah let her hand fall away.

“No,” She began. Amusement hummed around her voice. “Thank you for being worried. It’s…” She paused, uncertain she believed what she was saying, or at any rate if she _should_ believe what she was saying. “Nice.” Pan scowled.

“Nice is hardly the word I’d use to describe it.” He told her tersely. In fact, he found the whole feeling distinctly unpleasant. “So don’t do it again.” Sarah laughed.

“No promises.” Pan scowled. It was an order, not a suggestion. “Besides, I was doing fine until you distracted me.” The scowl deepened.

“This is _my_ island, Lost Girl. You’re going to have to get used to seeing me on it.” Despite what he had just said, he was beginning to feel she was acting entirely too comfortable with him, with her laughter and taunting and ignoring direct orders. He had thought earlier that he’d have to smooth things over after her conversation with Felix, convince her he wasn’t so frightening as she was probably imagining – or at least, convince her that there was no reason for _her_ to be frightened of him. From underneath his annoyance, a small part of him pricked up to say that perhaps this was good – maybe Felix had been wrong, and she trusted him after all. Sure, she hadn’t wanted to come into his tent, and she had looked afraid at first. But now she seemed completely at ease, and wasn’t that a good thing? _No_. His darker parts asserted.

“I’m sure I will.” Sarah assured him as she stood. At Pan’s furrowed brows, she explained. “I had better get out there before Xavier thinks you’ve murdered me.” Pan stood gracefully, a frown on his face.

“My Lost Boys don’t all think I’m as murderous as you do, Sarah.” Sarah snorted. She’d gotten enough warnings from enough different mouths to doubt that very much. Pan narrowed his eyes at her disbelief. “I wouldn’t believe everything Felix tells you, you know.” The drain of ease from her face was frankly impressive. She quickly tried to hide it, smoothing her face to a neutral expression.

“What,” Her voice came out strained at first. She tried again. “What do you mean? Felix?” Pan sighed, rolling his eyes. Now he’d done it.

“Yes. Felix.” His jaw tightened. “And whatever it is he’s made you think, I’ll remind you he also told the Lost Boys I sleep on a bed made out of skulls.” Sarah stared, surprised he would have tolerated the boys gossiping about him. He snorted. “You think I don’t know about that? Camp isn’t that large, and this canvas isn’t that thick.” Sarah eyed him carefully.

“This wasn’t campfire gossip.” She informed him, in as even a tone as she could muster. “It was a warning. Why would Felix lie to me about something like that?” Pan threw his hands in the air.

“Why does Felix do anything? He’s _Felix._ ” Despite what should have been a serious situation, the corners of Sarah’s mouth tugged up. It appeared even Pan could be irritated by his lieutenant’s enigmatic nature. Still, between the two of them she found it easier to trust Felix than Pan. She leveled Pan with a steady gaze.

“So you’re telling me there _weren’t_ others?” Pan smirked.

“Not jealous, are you Lost Girl?” Sarah’s eyes narrowed. If that was his answer, there were definitely others. _Were_ being the operative, as she certainly hadn’t run into any of them on the island. Which raised the question, what had happened to them? And perhaps more saliently, what would happen to her?

“Hardly.” She bit back. “But if you’re just going to throw me to the mermaids or something when you’re done with me, I’d really rather we just skip to that.” Her voice turned cold. “Wastes so much less of our time that way.” Pan stared at her, eyes hard.

“I made you a promise.” He growled. Did she think he made those lightly? “And aside from that, I didn’t kill _any_ of those other girls.” Sarah blinked. He almost sounded offended, which seemed strange considering how many times he had almost killed her. “Most of them never even stepped foot on the island.” She tilted her head back, trying to determine if he was lying to her. “Neverland used to be a place people visited in their dreams.” He explained. “And I did used to leave the island, quite a long time ago.”

She turned his words over in her head. Briefly, she wondered if _she_ had ever visited in her dreams. A familiar feeling tugged at her, though she couldn’t say why. If she had visited the island, wouldn’t Pan remember her? He had said _used_ to be, of course. Which begged the question, what had happened that it wasn’t any more? The answer felt as though it were hiding right in front of her, like furniture under an old dust cloth that for some reason, she simply couldn’t lift. “So you didn’t kill them.” She said at last. Pan frowned, not appreciating the lingering doubt in her voice.

“No.” He said tersely. “Look Sarah, how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t plan to murder you?” He turned his glare on the bandage around her arm. “Not that I’ll have to worry about doing it myself, since you’ve become so fond of games to slice yourself up.” The corner of her mouth tugged up. His concern for her was surprising, but more than that it was, well. Kind of adorable.

“Until I believe you.” He could hear a light note of humour in her voice. “But keep that up, and I might just start to.” His face scrunched. Glad as he was that she seemed to accept his version of events, there was a twinkle in her eye now that unsettled him strangely. She edged closer to him, and for once Pan understood how uncomfortable it could be to have an uninvited guest in one’s personal space. His nostrils flared as she placed a hand on his shoulder. What was she doing?

Sarah stood up on her toes, kissing the boy king lightly on the cheek. He whipped his head to the side, and Sarah stepped back just in time to avoid a collision. “Does this,” He began. Just this morning she had told him, “yet”. He took a step towards her. Sarah shook her head vehemently.

“No.” Her voice was soft. “Thanks for the bandage, Peter.” With that she fled from the tent, leaving behind a Pan more confused than he had been in half an age.


	58. Take-backs

_What the heck was that?_ Her mind screamed at her, as she made tracks resolutely for the jungle beyond camp. _What did you just do? What were you thinking? AGH._ The simple answer was that she hadn’t been thinking. It had felt right, she had wanted to do it, and so she did. _This is a fine time to start being impulsive._ She knew that, in hindsight. _He’s not going to let you forget that._ She knew that, too. An inconceivable giggle escaped her throat.

“Something on your tail, Lost Girl?” She turned towards the voice and, seeing Felix, promptly disappeared into fine green smoke. Felix stared after the spot where she’d been, brows raised. _Not my problem._ It was half thought, half prayer. If she’d disappeared again, it would very quickly become his problem. And after what Pan had confirmed to him this morning, it would be one heck of a problem indeed.

Sarah relaxed as the sounds of rushing water reached her ears. She had come to the pond because its burbling helped to drown out the backing track in her head. That, and she figured it would take Pan a while to track her down if he decided to come after her. She would go back to camp eventually, of course. She didn’t plan to disappear entirely, and certainly not over something she had done of her own accord. But maybe she could wait until he was asleep? No, if she stayed away too long he might come searching for her in earnest. And then of course… “I’m not sorry.” She decided firmly. Her heart pounded in her chest, a terrible and wonderful combination of fear, anxiety, and excitement.

 _What about keeping your guard up_? It turned out the water was not loud enough to tune out all of her thoughts. Not when they were so insistent on being heard. She tried to rationalise with herself. She’d told Pan that she wanted the version of him that cared, and she counted caring about her well-being – even if it was in a gruff, aggravated sort of way – as progress. Rewarding progress was good, wasn’t it? Besides, it wasn’t as though she were playing into his hands or anything. Not as shocked as he’d looked. She brought her hand up idly to her face, brushing a finger over her lips. Her face still felt hot. _Sarah, you are such an idiot._ Maybe so. But right at this moment she was, inexplicably, a happy idiot.

As the rush of endorphins – or whatever it was, perhaps there were drugs in that poultice Pan had applied to her arm – trailed off, however, the voice in her head began to make more and more sense and the voice in her heart less and less. How was she supposed to face him now? Would the other Lost Boys find out? Would Felix? She groaned. Who was she kidding, of course Felix would find out. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, they evidently told each other everything. Or at least, everything that pertained to her. She could just see the look on his face, that tiny smug lift of the eyebrows that said he knew what she had done, and thought her ridiculous for it.

She knelt down by the edge of the pond, splashing the cool water on her face. Yes, one of Felix’s gifts was the ability to mock her without ever once opening his mouth. And of course, when he opened his mouth it was even worse – and with such low-hanging fruit to go for, she had no doubt he would. She groaned. “I should _not_ have done that.”

“You don’t mind if I disagree, do you?” Sarah jumped and lost her balance, her hand landing inches deep in the silty bank below the water’s surface. Pan was leaning against the rocks by the vine-covered entrance, smirking in starlight-cast shadow. Sarah righted herself, hastily scrubbing the mud from her hand before standing. “Oh, don’t get up for me.” Pan waved a hand. “There’s no need for us to be so…formal, anymore. Is there?” A familiar feeling washed over Sarah in a wave – or perhaps it would be more accurate to say crashed over, as it fell like lead weights on every limb of her body. What was the name for that feeling again? Oh, right. Regret.

Pan pushed himself off the rocks, walking towards her. Was she imagining it, or was he swanning about with even more arrogant swagger than usual? She stepped back, into the pond, to avoid the arm he tried to wrap around her waist. No, she wasn’t imagining it. Pan snorted. “Well, I quite enjoyed it, at any rate.” Sarah crossed her arms.

“If you’re going to be like this,” She told him testily, “You can just forget it ever happened.” Pan laughed.

“Well _you’ve_ had quite the change of mood, haven’t you?” She scowled. He laughed again. “Come on, Sarah. Come out of the pond, those boots don’t stay waterproof forever.” He was right about that, and she could already feel the damp creeping through to her socks within. But if she left the water, he’d try and wrap an arm around her again or some other such unwelcome gesture, and she had no intention of giving him that satisfaction. Instead, she took a step back, further into the pond. Pan snorted. “You know, I’d point out that you’re the one who kissed me.” He shook his head. “So it’s no good acting like this now.”

“Clearly I was out of my right mind.” Sarah grumbled. “What was in that stuff you smeared on my arm, narcotics?” Pan raised a brow.

“Yarrow, clove, and marigold.” She blinked. “And a bit of mint. No…whatever that thing you just said.” The smirk returned. “No, your actions were all your own, Lost Girl.” He grinned. “So why not come out and enjoy the effects?”

“If the effects were enjoyable, I might.” She sniped. “As it is, at least in the pond I don’t have to deal with you taking liberties or Felix,” She paused, floundering for an apt description. “Being Felix.” Pan tilted his head.

“Taking liberties?” He asked wryly. Now there was a phrase he hadn’t heard in an age. “And what sort of liberties might those be? Kissing someone on the cheek maybe?” Her eyes narrowed as she struggled valiantly to silence the voice in the back of her head gleefuly exclaiming, _I told you so_. Pan chuckled, then held out a hand. “Look, just come out of the pond and I promise I won’t “take any liberties”.” If she stayed in any longer, her boots were liable to fill up with water. She studiously avoided his hand, putting some very necessary distance between the two of them as she ascended to dry land. Pan watched with sardonic amusement.

Sarah seated herself on a rock, prying her boots off partly to empty the water, and partly to have something to focus on other than the questionable after-effects of her impulsive action. “So what’s Felix got to do with this?” Pan called over to her. Sarah didn’t look up, staring grim faced at the water dripping from her overturned boot.

“You two gossip like schoolgirls.” She was not entirely successful at keeping the bite from her voice. “So whatever embarrassing thing I do in front of one of you, I might as well have done it in front of both.” She beat the sole of the boot with more vigour than perhaps was warranted.

“Embarrassing?” He asked, a look of mock confusion on his face. “Sarah, I’m hurt.” She snapped her eyes up in a glare.

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t mind if I told the Lost Boys what you said to me by my willow tree?” She demanded. “Should I tell them about how I make you weak?” Pan’s expression turned dark, and Sarah narrowed her eyes. “How about helpless?” Even in the dim light, she saw the warning spark of shadow behind his eye, and smirked. There it was, proof that she’d been deluding herself.

She was surprised, however, to watch Pan carefully form his face back to a neutral expression. “I suppose I wouldn’t like that at all.” He said casually. She drew her head back, uncertain what to think of a Pan that kept his temper under control. He walked over to her with a restrained air. Though his movement was graceful as ever, it felt as though he were trying to hold himself back from something. She kept a watchful eye on him as he sat on the rock beside her. “If it was so embarrassing,” He asked lightly, “Why do it?” Sarah looked away.

“I – ” Her mouth tightened to a thin line. “You were worried about me.” She spoke as though delivering a stern lecture. “It was…sweet.” Pan was torn. On the one hand, “sweet” was at the bottom of the list of adjectives he wished to be used to describe him. On the other hand, sweet was getting him what he wanted. “But since you’ve dropped that in favour of lording around again like you own the island,” She continued tersely, tugging her boots back on. Pan opened his mouth to point out that in fact, he did own the island, but Sarah silenced him with a look. “Like I said. You can forget it ever happened. If I could, I’d take it back.” Back home, Sarah was not in the habit of going back on a kiss once bestowed. But then, none of the people she’d kissed in her world had ever been near as aggravating as Pan.

“Fine.” Pan’s eyes narrowed as his face took on a determined set. Sarah froze, the fear that she’d pushed the limit of his restrained temper bubbling up in the back of her mind. She opened her mouth to question, but something in his eyes stopped her. Slowly and quietly, he leaned over and laid a soft kiss against her cheek just as she had done to him. She drew a shaky hand up to the spot as he pulled away from her, staring at him with concerned confusion. Pan reached his own hand up over hers. “There.” He breathed. “It’s taken back.” Her brows furrowed. “It’s taken back, and I’ll forget it ever happened.” A sly grin slid over his face as he dropped her hand. “Provided you can forget about that one.”

“You are incorrigible.” Sarah accused. The grin only widened.

“That I am, Lost Girl.” He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, and in the next moment they were seated on a log in camp. He let his hand slide lazily from her shoulder as he stood. “That I am.”


	59. Soft

Sarah stared after him with a face like a puckered lemon. “Peter!” She called angrily. Remembering she was back in camp, she hastily added “Pan!” She didn’t want to give the Lost Boys any more reason to suspect there was something afoot, and calling him by his first name would certainly tip them off. “Peter Pan, you insufferable weasel, get back here!” Pan turned lazily as he walked, a smirk fit for the devil’s own son on his lips.

“Don’t worry, Lost Girl.” He called back cheerfully. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Her heart shivered the briefest moment before she got ahold of herself. Was he saying he wouldn’t tell Felix? She might have believed him more if he hadn’t called loudly enough to catch the attention of several Lost Boys, all of whom now turned to stare at her. Arthur among them caught her eye, brows raised in a question. She stormed over to his group’s fire, plopping herself aggressively by Nibs. She nodded stiffly to Loto, though she saw no sign of Xavier. Nibs opened his mouth to speak, and she could already see the question forming on his tongue.

“Don’t.” She ordered him tersely. His jaw snapped shut. She closed her eyes and twisted her hand aggressively, a plate appearing in front of her loaded with steaming, very rare beef. A dribble of red slipped down her chin as she voraciously tore into a chunk of it, revealing the purplish insides.

“Sarah.” Arthur admonished, appalled. “That’s disgusting.” Sarah looked up, hastily swallowing so she wouldn’t speak with food in her mouth. She wiped at her mouth aggressively with her remaining sleeve.

“I’m _angry_.” She informed him. Not to mention hungry. She added, grumbling, “And this is better than throwing fireballs.” Nibs took advantage of her distraction to steal a bite off her plate. The sound he made upon eating it bordered on indecent.

“Not disgusting.” He assured Arthur. “Delicious.” Before Sarah could protest, he had stolen another bite and lobbed it over to Loto, and another one towards Arthur. Arthur let it fall before pushing it into the fire with a stick.

“Remind me why I stay on this island with you barbarians?” Sarah snorted.

“Pan won’t let you leave?” She tore another bite, glaring at Nibs to keep him from stealing any more.

Loto grinned. “Certain redhead.” He glanced over at Sarah. “Besides, who wants to leave?” His eyes briefly widened at her answering scowl. “Ok, other than you I guess.” Sarah growled over her meat.

“Didn’t say I wanted to leave.” She grumped. This was her island too, whatever Pan thought. After all, didn’t she have territory he couldn’t enter? _Should have tried extending that territory to your face_. Her mind needled. She growled again. Seeing the surprised look on her companions’ faces, she sighed. “Sorry.” She offered the plate of meat to Nibs again as a peace offering. “In a foul mood. Shouldn’t take it out on you guys.” Arthur and Loto exchanged glances, but Nibs seemed content to embrace her peace offering whole-stomachly.

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to force her irritations with Pan and her worries over what he might tell Felix to the back of her mind. She didn’t quite manage a smile, but the look was very near. “Speaking of certain redheads, where is our favourite human sledgehammer?” Arthur snorted.

“He’s brooding.” Sarah stared at him in shock. Xavier could brood? Wouldn’t all his energy explode if left bottled up in one place for too long? Arthur gave a lopsided smile. “If you wouldn’t mind coming with me though, I think we can get him to stop.” Seeing her confused face, he laughed. “Between slicing you on the arm, Pan dragging you off, and Pan loudly questioning Felix about where you went, he’s convinced himself you disappeared again forever and it’s all his fault.” Arthur gestured at her arm. “He also thought Pan would be giving you a dressing-down – but I see he dressed you up, instead.” Sarah cleared her throat uncomfortably.

“Yeah.” She blinked rapidly. “Um. Who knew Pan was good with herbal medicine?” Arthur stood with a chuckle. Sarah followed him, thrusting the rest of her dinner into Nibs’ welcoming hands. She could always imagine another.

“You can thank Teo for that.” Arthur told her as they walked. At her confusion, he clarified. “Tall, uses a bow – with Kasim’s group that first day of capture the flag?" Oh, bow-boy. "He was apprenticed to an apothecary before he came here. They were…less than pleasant, but at least he picked up some useful information. Infections in camp went way down after he came.” Sarah didn’t know how appropriate it would be to ask for more detail. She remained curious about what had brought everyone else to the island, but with all of them hinting that it had been terrible she didn’t know that it would be wise to bring it up.

She didn’t have time to decide one way or the other before they got to Xavier’s tent. Arthur walked up to let her in, but she stopped him with a shake of her head. A wicked plan had just occurred to her. “Xavierrrrr.” She wavered her voice in a poor imitation of a departed spirit. “Xavierrrrr.” She heard rustling inside the tent. Arthur peered at her harshly at first, but then rolled his eyes and let her continue. This was better than angry, and he was sure Xavier could handle a little prank. “I’ve come to hauuuunt you! Pan was mad that I got in a fight with someone else, and he muuuurdered me.” The tent flap flew open to reveal an irate Xavier. He narrowed his eyes at Sarah, who stood before him with a mischievous grin.

“I was _worried_ about you.” He looked as though he were about to tackle her, but when he took in her sleeveless, bandaged arm his expression relaxed. “I’m – ” Sarah cut him off.

“I thought I told you to be smiling when I got back.” She scolded. A sheepish grin broke over his face. Arthur ruffled his hair affectionately.

“Told you she’d be fine.” He slipped an arm around Xavier’s waist as the three walked back to their fire. Nibs had left by the time they returned. Loto told them Alec and Cody had come by to beg him for extra sword lessons, a compliment to his ego he was more than happy to oblige. The rest of the evening passed quietly, with Xavier and Loto only getting into two fights with each other, Arthur narrowly losing to Kasim at a thrown knives challenge, and Sarah managing to avoid seeing even a glimpse of Pan or his lieutenant. She stayed up far later than she usually did on the island, only calling good night when her eyelids felt heavy as stone and her limbs not much lighter. The numbing effects of the poultice had long since worn off as well, and she figured sleep was the best pain-reliever she would get. She trudged wearily to her tent, content in a night well-spent with her friends.

 _Are they really your friends_? The darker part of her mind needled. It was often more vocal when she was tired. _With all their loyalty to Pan?_ She turned the question over in her mind. She thought through her tired brain fog of Xavier, brooding over her disappearance. Arthur, risking his neck with Pan to keep her from doing something she might regret. Nibs distracting her when Pan was being too Pan-like to put up with, and even Rasheed, grudgingly admitting that perhaps things were not as nice without her in camp. _Yes._ She told the dark voice firmly. _Yes they are._ She tried not to listen as it insistently echoed back, _we’ll see_.

Pan sitting on her pallet when she entered her tent surprised her, to say the least. He cocked an eyebrow as she opened the flaps. “You’re up late.” He observed. She stared, too tired to think of an appropriately scathing remark.

“Why are you in my tent?” She asked dully. “Again.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She looked as though she were halfway asleep already. She was in no condition to take him to task over his rushed departure earlier, nor apparently to be appropriately incensed at finding him in her tent.  

“Sit, Lost Girl.” He directed. When she narrowed her half-closed eyes further, he chuckled. “I’m just here to change the bandage – unless you’d like to try and sleep with it stinging like that?” He’d treated enough cuts to know the effect of the cloves would have worn off by now. If Sarah narrowed her eyes any further, they’d be shut. Even so, she sat down beside him with the bandaged arm facing him. He unwrapped the bandage carefully. She hissed as he dabbed away the earlier herbal treatment – the fabric was soft and the ground herbs damp, but it still stung. “Shh.” He soothed. She breathed a sigh of relief as the pleasant numbing sensation spread back over her cut.

By the time he finished tying up her arm, Sarah was slumped against him. Not even his worrisome presence could keep away exhaustion and the call to sleep for a dreamer on the island of dreams. Looking down at her, he half-laughed. If she remembered this in the morning, he had no doubt she’d be furious – with him or herself, who was to say? He considered staying there – her ire if she actually woke up against him would no doubt be exquisite – but in the end decided his pallet was, after all, much more comfortable. Aside from that, she’d made it clear she didn’t want to sleep in the same tent as him. And strange as it was, he found he didn’t want to spend the night beside her until she wanted to spend it by him. 

 _You’re going soft_ , his mind warned. And maybe he was, just a bit. He moved her carefully from her slump to a position lying down, taking special care not to pressure her bandaged cut. He’d make her more like him in time, he was sure of it. But until then…perhaps a small amount of softness wouldn’t be so bad at all. He left silently, pausing at the entrance to look down at his sleeping puzzle before tying the tent flaps closed behind him. Feeling very odd indeed, he set off towards his own solitary tent, and bed.


	60. Girl

Sarah woke late the next morning. She stretched carefully, mindful of the dull ache in her left arm. She looked around her tent to see that thankfully, she was alone. The last thing she remembered was Pan re-bandaging her cut, so he must have left after she’d fallen asleep. Her stomach twisted. It had happened before, she supposed, with the sleeping spell, but being in the same space as Pan when he was awake and she was not made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if that discomfort was better, or worse now that they were something other than enemies.

She groaned, trying to shake thoughts of the boy from her mind. She had never wanted to be one of those people who got caught up in crying, “What _are_ we?” about their relationships. She had always thought her friends silly for doing so, when a simple conversation would straighten things out. She sent them a silent apology now, wherever they were.

What she needed was a distraction, something to focus on other than her frustrating feelings towards a frustrating target. She hadn’t really practiced her Belief since coming back to camp, other than eating. It was something that required focus, and that sounded like exactly what she needed. The only question was, where to start?

No, wait. No question. She looked down at her shirt with its missing sleeve, smears of dirt and blood, tears, and holes. She hadn’t been on the island that long, but she’d certainly put this shirt through the ringer. It was high time to let it rest. She could have easily imagined another just the same, but since she had started changing things on the island her need to create what was new and unique had grown. Mushroom houses and purple earth had been just the beginning, and there were now several types of flowers growing on the island that had never been grown before, on the island or off of it. To imagine a copy of something seemed a shame.

Instead, she closed her eyes and let herself daydream. She couldn’t do anything too fantastical – even now, with fewer day-to-day threats from Pan and the other Lost Boys, the island was a place of rough living. Diaphanous fabrics would last for all of thirty seconds before being caught and torn on something, as would the long skirts she loved so much in her own world. Perhaps later she might imagine such a skirt, just for wearing every now and again. She missed the swirl of soft fabrics.

For now, however, she needed something practical. It might be nice, too, to have something that wouldn’t tear quite so easily. She wouldn’t go so far as imagining armour – she could just imagine how the boys might laugh at that – but something sturdier than cotton or wool would be nice. With a smile, an idea came to her. She imagined first a dark green shirt with one long sleeve – she liked the protection sleeves offered, but she didn’t want this shirt to go the way of the last. Once Pan stopped insisting on medical attention, she’d imagine one with two. Then, she concentrated hard on a memory of a warrior woman from the front of some YA-novel she’d read many years ago. Many panels knotted together to make a fitted but flexible leather vest of brown chestnut, tied in the front in a queen-anne neckline before tapering to a v along the hem.

When she felt the heavy weight settling into her hand, she opened her eyes with a smile. Then, checking to be sure her tent flaps were closed, she gingerly removed the bedraggled shirt Pan had given her on her first night in camp. She set it carefully with her poor pajamas in their quiet corner, and hoped that her next shirt might last a little longer. Then, she slipped her new clothing over her head. She wasn’t sure how they looked – she didn’t really want to imagine a mirror and confirm what a fright she must look after so long on the island – but she was sure how they felt, and they felt pretty good. She ran her hand over the leather bodice, and counted it a very good thing that her stomach could barely register the touch. _Let’s try and tear through that_ , she thought with great satisfaction.

She was so pleased with it that she added leather bracers along her lower arms, closed with metal busks rather than cord so that she could take them on and off herself. Feeling quite pleased with herself, she left her tent at last.

Stares followed her as she moved into the main area of camp. Though none of them had ever forgotten she was a girl, since she wore the same clothes as them they hadn’t remembered that girls could look quite so – well – different. The way she moved this morning was different too, the excitement of Believing filling her walk with a confidence very different from her habitual skulk. She tried her best to ignore them, though so many eyes on her did shrink her confidence some, as she followed the sound of familiar whoops to where Nibs and Teo were racing to climb two ropes hung from the branches of a long tree.

Here at least she was free from stares, as the boy focused instead on cheering the competitors. Nibs was fast, but Teo’s long reach gave him an advantage, and in the end he touched the tree branch first. She edged in beside Xavier as he heckled his tent mate. Glancing sideways to see who had joined him, he started back. “Sarah, you look like a girl!” Sarah frowned, skirting her eyes away from him. She was beginning to regret her decision to make her vest even a little fitted.

“I always look like a girl.” She said tersely. “I _am_ a girl.” The other boys crowded around Teo to cheer his victory, while Nibs walked towards Xavier to settle accounts over his heckling. He stopped when he saw Sarah, brow furrowing in his confusion. He glanced to Xavier, then back to her, and opened his mouth. “I have been a girl the entire time I have been on this island.” Sarah informed him. “So don’t you start.” Nibs looked away, embarrassed. Sarah sighed, wanting very much to move the conversation away from her newly expanded wardrobe.  “You would have had that if his arms weren’t so long.” She tried. Nibs laughed as Xavier protested.

“No, he missed it by a mile! Not so high and mighty now, are you Nibs?”

“Still higher and mightier than you!”

“Oh yeah?”

Sarah had to laugh as the two raced back over to the ropes. Not sure who she wanted to win more, she cheered both, and whooped when they ended in almost a tie. The two came down arguing about who had reached the top first. “Well, we’ll see later.” Xavier said at last. “This time, there’s no way I’m going to lose to you!” Nibs rolled his eyes.

“For all you know, we’ll be on the same team.” He smiled. “But don’t worry, if we are just follow my lead and for once you’ll know what winning feels like.” Sarah stepped between them before Xavier could launch a wrestling match.

“What are you two talking about?” She demanded. “Teams? Later?” A sinking feeling was growing in her stomach.

“We’re playing a game later.” The sinking feeling dropped to a stone. Xavier’s face fell as he saw her reaction. “It’s not – it will be fun!” Sarah peered at him skeptically. Games were never a good thing for her, even the one she had won. No – especially the game she had won. “We split up in three teams, and we all try to be the first to reach a point on the island.” He glared fiercely at their friend. “And there’s _no way_ you’re going to beat me this time, Nibs.” Sarah remained quiet. A race didn’t sound so bad – and with three teams, she’d actually be working with the Lost Boys instead of against them for once. Still, she was wary.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it tonight.” She said smoothly. Nibs and Xavier looked at her in confusion. Everyone participated in games – it was just how things worked. Nibs coughed nervously. She raised an eyebrow, and he explained sheepishly,

“I don’t think Pan will like it if you try to sit out of the game.” Sarah crossed her arms, scoffing. Things being the way they were, she’d like to see Pan try to tell her what she could or couldn’t do.

“Pan can bite me.” She asserted. The look that passed between Xavier and Nibs should have forewarned her, but she assumed it was only their standard fear of their leader.

“Is that an invitation?” She stiffened as Pan’s smooth voice flowed from very near her ear. He must have given the other boys a look, because they quickly scattered. He brushed his hand over the leather vest at her shoulder. When she turned to face him, he blinked. He ran his eyes up and down over her new clothing. “You look like a girl.” She had a mind to be offended by the confusion in his voice, and promised herself that the next boy who said that to her was getting tackled whether she could win the fight or no.

“So I keep hearing.” She grumbled. Wasn’t he the one who had told her the Lost Boys didn’t remember girls enough to know what one looked like? “I’ve looked like a girl the entire time I’ve been here, thank you very much, and I can assure you my gender hasn’t changed just because I put on a fitted vest!” She crossed her arms with a sour huff. Pan raised an eyebrow.

“I never said you weren’t a girl before.” He pointed out. “But you do look rather more…” He ran his eyes over her again, and Sarah began to feel that for her next shirt, she might do well to imagine a large, shapeless bag. “Feminine.” He reached out to brush the leather strap at her shoulder, but she swatted his hand away.

“The vest isn’t an invitation either.” She told him firmly. Something dark glimmered behind his eye, but in a moment it had passed. “Did you want something, Peter?” She asked at last, uncomfortable with the length of his stare. “I’ll have you know I was _talking_ to Xavier and Nibs before you chased them off.”

“Just wanted to check on that slice of yours.” He said innocently. His mouth twitched to a smirk. “When I overheard your request.” Sarah scowled.

“It wasn’t a request.” She grumped. “It was a dismissal.” She looked away. “And my arm is fine, thanks all the same.” Pan laughed.

“Lost Girl, you are a _terrible_ liar.” He wrapped a hand around her sleeved arm, pulling her over to a log. When she refused to sit, he frowned. “I don’t – ” he paused. She had that odd, tight-lipped look on her face that he was coming to recognise as embarrassment. Irritation he would have expected, but this confused him. She reached her other hand up to pry his away from her arm.

“I told you, it’s fine.” Being alone with Pan, in his tent or in hers, had been uncomfortable – but how much more uncomfortable it would be, she was realising now, to be out in front of everyone. Eyes were already creeping towards them, and she edged away from Pan lest those eyes start getting any ideas. He watched her eyes dart around to the watching Lost Boys, and comprehension dawned.

“They’re staring because you aren’t doing what I tell you to.” He murmured. “Sit.” Gallows-faced, she did. Pan felt a roiling irritation bubble up within him. Yesterday she had kissed him – willingly, no less – and fallen asleep on him, and today she was back to acting as though being within three feet of him was hazardous to her health. Sure, he had teased her some – but not all that much. “Nice of you to leave this sleeve off for me.” He remarked, untying the bandage. She grunted in response.

His touch was decidedly less gentle than yesterday, and her nails bit into the log as he cleaned away the poultice and tied on a fresh bandage. “There.” His voice was sharp. “No infection so far, so I’m sure you’ll be happy to know you won’t need to change this out again for a while.”

Sarah nodded, biting her lip against the dull throbbing emanating from the freshly-bandaged cut. “Right. Thanks.” When he didn’t get up, she coughed. “So about this game later.”

“You’re playing.” She finally looked over at him, annoyance clear on her face. It was a match for his own.

“Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t be controlled, Peter?” Pan narrowed his eyes.

“And here I thought you wanted to be treated like the other Lost Boys.” He leaned towards her. “The Lost Boys do what I tell them.” Sarah scooted back on her log. She could tell his irritation was slipping into anger, but what did he have to be angry about? That she didn’t want to play one of his games? That was childish and ridiculous. The boy who would not grow up, indeed.

“Is there a problem, Peter?” She kept her voice low, not wanting to be overheard calling him by his first name. Pan’s jaw twitched.

“You tell me.” He had no compunctions about being overheard, and his voice echoed through the campsite. Sarah winced to notice Lost Boys failing to look discreet as they stared. She looked from Pan to the jungle, a silent request to have this conversation away from prying eyes. He set his jaw. “I don’t see any reason to leave.” Sarah’s patience with his mood was rapidly running out. She rested her hand lightly on his knee, and the two vanished in green smoke.

She backed up as soon as they landed in the pine forest, wary of the swirl of shadows forming in Pan’s eye. He looked around in apparent disbelief that she had transported them against his will. “Not so fun, is it?” She asked dryly. Pan glared at her a moment before shunting his eyes away.

“I never realised how obnoxious that was.” He grumbled. Sarah barked a laugh.

“Like hell you didn’t.” She walked around him until she was in his field of view once more. “Are you going to tell me what has you so irate, or do I have to guess?” With Pan on the defensive, she no longer had to be. She tried a smile, and he looked away. “Did you and Felix get into a fight?” She needled. “Lover’s tiff?” Pan’s eyes snapped back up in a glare.

“Felix isn’t the one who – ” He broke off in a growl. Sarah blinked, turning his words over in her head. 

“I’m not very good at reading minds, Peter.” She said softly. “But…something’s bothering you, so why not tell me what it is?” Her heart was pounding in her chest, even as she instructed it to calm down. A conversation was nothing to get so worked up over. Peter scowled, and for a long moment neither of them spoke.

“You don’t want to be seen with me.” He spat at last. Sarah stared. Of all the things she might have imagined him being upset by, this was about at the bottom of the list. Pan smirked. “Can’t even deny it, can you?” She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She couldn’t deny it. “What’s the matter, Sarah?” A cruel edge hardened over his words as he began to circle her. “Am I so abhorrent to you? It didn’t seem that way when you kissed me yesterday.” She felt his mocking breath on her ear. “Or when you fell asleep in my arms.” Any softness she had felt was gone, wiped out as she whirled to face him.

“I am not a _toy_ , Pan.” She hissed, inches from his face. “I am not a toy, and I will _not_ be seen that way by you or anyone – especially not the Lost Boys.” Pan’s heart quickened. Familiar forms twisted behind his Lost Girl’s eyes, forms he hadn’t realised quite how much he missed. “And I never should have kissed you yesterday, I should have known you’d take the first opportunity to throw it back in my face.” Her lips curled up in a snarl. “You _disgust_ me.” Was her disgust directed towards him, or herself? It was hard to be sure.

Pan grinned, eyes wide with a dark glee. He wrapped his arms over her shoulders, bringing their foreheads together. “I love it when you get mad.” He whispered. Sarah pushed against him once, then twice, and finally settled for ducking out from under his grip. “Sarah.” He called, cajoling. She snarled.

“Good news, Peter.” She spat. “With you around, there will never be a shortage of me getting mad.” She glared into him. “This will never work, and it was ridiculous to think it might.” Pan’s grin began to fade. He closed the distance between them, wrapping an arm around her waist over protests. “Let go of me, Pan.” She snapped. He lay his head against the curve of her neck and shoulder, feeling the hum of the growl in her throat.

“No.” His voice was soft. She clawed at his arm with both hands. “Sarah.” She hated when he spoke like that, mournful and pleading. It stole the strength from her limbs even as she willed them to keep fighting against him. They stood leaning against each other a long while in silence. “They’re going to find out eventually.” Pan murmured in her ear. She shifted uncomfortably in his grasp.

“Not if there’s nothing there to find out.” A low, dry laugh fell from Pan’s lips.

“I told you you were cruel, Lost Girl.” She snorted.

“If you had feelings, maybe.” He turned her around to face him, catching her eyes with his own. The seriousness of his expression took her off guard, and her heart began its racing once again. He reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

“When it comes to you, I do.”


	61. Reasons

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. Then, she laughed. A shaky, tenuous laugh. “What do you want from me, Peter?” The anger had drained away to a sort of pleasant exasperation. His hand came to rest on her cheek as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“You, of course.” She covered his hand with her own, pulling it gently away from her face to rest at their sides instead.

“I’m going to need you to be more specific.”  She tried to cover her nerves with another laugh. “I mean, what were you expecting? That we’d run around camp holding hands and whispering to each other, like Arthur and Xavier?” It didn’t bear mentioning that she might have daydreamed about that herself, once or twice – she knew it was an impossibility.

Pan frowned. No, that wasn’t entirely what he’d been expecting. And had she expected it of him, when she first came back to camp, he doubtless would have laughed. He was the nightmarish ruler of Neverland, and not given to displays of anything but strength and authority. But now, the fact that she found the idea so wholly ridiculous irked him. Why shouldn’t he do what he wanted in his own camp? What was the good of being powerful, elsewise? “I don’t see why that’s so funny.” He grumbled. Sarah peered at him curiously, uncertain whether he was being serious or not.

“You want to – ” She paused. “You want to hold hands, and whisper to each other, in front of the Lost Boys?” The corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “You’re pulling my leg, Peter. I know you’d never risk your reputation like that.” Pan glowered.

“If any of the Lost Boys start to think I’m weak,” He told her derisively, “I will be more than happy to disabuse them of that notion.” Sarah shifted. He really did seem serious about this, and that confused her. And more than that, it concerned her.

“And what about my reputation?” She pressed. “If they see me acting…that way, with you, they’re going to talk.” Pan laughed, and her eyes narrowed. “They’re going to think I’m just another stupid girl who fell for your tricks, Peter, and I will _not_ have that.” Pan leveled her with a steady gaze.

“My sweet little Lost Girl.” A growl formed at the back of her throat from the condescension in his voice. “Why should you care what they think?” It was a nice enough sentiment, and he probably should have stopped at that. “Considering you could vaporise any of them with a fireball in an instant, I’d say they should be more worried by what you think of them.” He should have, but he didn’t.

“Believe it or not,” Sarah replied testily, “Some of us like to have real friends – not ones who feel like they have to be out of fear.” His jaw tightened. She had some nerve, thinking the Lost Boys – _his_ Lost Boys, were more her friends than his simply because they weren’t afraid of her. It was true that he wouldn’t exactly call them his “friends” – but they were loyal to _him_ , not her, and that was far better anyway. “And that’s another thing, Peter – I meant what I told you before. I don’t _like_ losing my temper, because that isn’t the kind of person I want to be.” Pan’s expression sharpened.

“Pity.” He remarked coolly. “You are so…” Sarah clenched her jaw as he twirled a piece of hair around his fingers. “Intoxicating, when you’re angry.” He let his hand trail away. “Doesn’t it feel good?” He needled. “Being angry, knowing you can take what you want, that no one can stop you.”

“ _No_.” Sarah replied firmly. Her eyes narrowed as she pushed back her mind’s unpleasant reminder that yes, in fact, it _did_ feel good. “And even if it did in the moment, it wouldn’t feel good later.” Pan quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I don’t want to hurt people, Peter! Why is that so hard for you to understand?” Pan rolled his eyes.

“If they were strong, you wouldn’t hurt them.” Sarah looked at him with saddened disbelief. “It’s the law of the jungle, Sarah.” He swept his arm towards the rest of the island. “And in case you haven’t noticed, that is a jungle.” Sarah shook her head.

“That isn’t how things should be.” She insisted. Pan laughed. Of course it was.

“It’s the way things are.” He ran a hand down the side of her face. “We’re at the top Sarah-or you could be, if you’d stop hiding away from yourself.”

“I’m not hiding from anything Peter,” she snapped, batting his hand away. “I just don’t believe in preying on people who are weaker than you.” Something sparked in her eye then, but this was no shadow. It was the opposite, something bright and shimmering that filled him with an uneasy sense of dread. “If it’s the jungle that sets your law,” She said determinedly, more to herself than to him, “Perhaps it’s time for a change of pace.” She turned to where the pine forest gave way to jungle trees. Pan watched with furrowed brows. She closed her eyes as a beatific smile crossed her face. _Neverland?_  The ground beneath them hummed. Pan looked down, the unease swelling up to an unfamiliar sensation: panic. _Is it –_ The answer came before she could finish the question. _Yes._

“Sarah, what are you doing?” His voice was sharp, but she didn’t answer. His eyes flickered rapidly between her and the treeline. “Sarah!” He watched in shock as the trees at the edge of the jungle began to change before his eyes. He focused on them hard, willing them to stay as they were. This was his island. It was his jungle.

His jungle trees were turning before his eyes to a forest of oak and ash and hawthorn. It reminded him too much of another place he had once called home. How was it possible that she should override him? He saw a second row of trees begin to change. Amidst the first row, bright flowers and trailing brambles sprung up to cover the ground. “Sarah, enough.” Colourful mist began to swirl around the branches. Her hands splayed outwards as if feeling some light and delicate thing he could not see. He grabbed one of those hands roughly, pulling her into his chest. In surprise, she opened her eyes. They looked disoriented. She blinked up at him for a moment as though she didn’t recognise him, then whipped her head to the side to see what she had wrought. A smile tore her face as she saw a whole row and a half of jungle turned to the fairytale forest she had seen within her mind. She looked back at Pan with her eyes still alight with joy, as though she had forgotten the argument that set her to Believing in the first place.

As she took in the dark storm brewing behind his eyes, the smile slowly fell away. “Peter?” She whispered. His grip around her tightened, and she winced. “Peter.”

“This is my island.” His voice was low and steely, dripping with threat she hadn’t heard since before she’d left the camp. “This is _my_ island. Change it back.” Sarah shook her head slowly.

“They don’t want to change back.” The corner of his lip curled up in a snarl. The old fear rose up again within her, but to her relief he let her go at last – or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he pushed her away. She caught her footing carefully, eyeing him as she might a cornered animal. In that moment she would have sworn she could see the internal battle raging in his head. She couldn’t quite believe it when the old, cold shadows in his eyes subsided. Whatever they were fighting against, it appeared they had lost. The intensity of his gaze still frightened her, but she knew the worst of the danger had passed.

Pan stepped toward her, and she instinctively stepped back. A flicker passed behind his eyes before he let out a soft, dark laugh. He held out a coaxing hand. “You really are my match, Sarah.” She looked from his hand to his face, and started back. There was a look in his eye she had never imagined she’d see, not in any of her wildest dreams. Admiration. Perhaps, even, respect. Somehow, after all that had passed between them, she had reached a point she didn’t think was possible. Peter Pan, fearsome leader of the Lost Boys, evidently saw her as an equal.

She calmed the flutter in her heart to look at him seriously. The fear had wiped away the disorientation her large exercise in Belief had wrought, and she could remember again why they were arguing in the first place. They had danced around this point too long for her to be swayed off it any longer by sweet moments, or heart-pounding realisations, or even by rage-inducing fights. It was time to lay the truth out to dry, whether they liked it or not.

“I mean what I say, Peter.” Somehow she kept her voice firm and even. “I don’t want to give in to my darkness.” She swallowed hard. “If that’s what you’re looking for…” She didn’t want to say it, but she knew she had to. It took all her willpower to hold contact with his eyes. “Look somewhere else.” Pan’s face slowly hardened.

“I have to change for you.” The emotionless tone of his voice accused her. “But you won’t even embrace a part of yourself that’s already there for me?” Pan was annoyed, though it was hard to say whether it was more with himself or with Sarah. He had tipped his hand too soon, gotten too excited over the flare of her temper, and now she was demanding all the cards be laid on the table. Sarah’s eyes skirted away from him. A heavy silence followed.

“Is that the only reason you…want me, Peter?” She still didn’t know what word to apply to their situation. If she was honest with herself, she wanted more than just wanting. But there had been enough messy feelings between them already, and if they added in any more she might have to run off into the jungle again just to keep from facing them. When it came to Pan, at least, Sarah was not very good at being honest with herself. “Because you want someone as,” She paused, looking for the right word. She couldn’t find it. “Angry, as you?”

Pan stared at her, trying to unravel for himself what he wanted. For once, he had meant what he said as well – Sarah was his match. She challenged him, even when the odds were against her, and she was connected with his island as no one he had ever seen before. If he were being honest with himself, she was probably more connected than he was. And then there was her anger. When she let them come out, he had seen the shadows in her eyes were just as dark as his own, and they called to him as kindred. But she wouldn’t let them come out unless he forced them out, and there was the crux of his problem.

He could be with Sarah, the softer Sarah who still challenged him and dreamed impossible dreams into life on his island, and let the hope of the shadows go. Or, he could bring out the darkness that lived in them both, and have her as an enemy instead. He almost smiled to think of it: between the two of them, he very much doubted there’d be any of the island left. Her anger could burn so fiercely, and if they truly fought fire-to-fire, it would be an adventure like no other. He was sure of it.

But if he took her as an enemy now, he knew she would never be anything else. He had injured her pride too many times already for that, and even now she seemed to count any warmth towards him as a risk. But – though he had to force down the darker voices in his mind to admit it – he liked when she took those risks. He had hated the feelings they engendered at first, but like honeysuckle choking a sapling they were slowly growing over his objections. And he wanted to know what it would be like for her not to see him as a risk. If he took her as an enemy, he would know what he was dealing with: it would be a challenge in skill only, a new player in a familiar game. If he went the other route…he would be flying all but blind. The idea terrified him. And that excited him.

The longer Pan stared at her, the more uncomfortable Sarah grew. While he sorted his thoughts over in his mind, she tried with little success and wild imagination to guess his machinations. She couldn’t remember a time he’d gone this long without speaking. Was he trying to break her resolve? Make her so uncomfortable, or so afraid of him turning and walking away from whatever stood between them that she’d change her mind? _I won’t_. She promised herself. She’d promised herself she’d never change her mind about Pan, of course, but this was different. On this one thing, she would never compromise. Because if she did, who might she become? “I won’t change my mind on this, Peter.” She affirmed at last, when she could bear his silence no longer.

Pan blinked as if drawn from some waking dream. “I know.” Sarah furrowed her brow. It wasn’t what she had expected to hear. “The anger is _a_ reason, of course.” His voice was much calmer than she had expected as well. “But it isn’t the only one.” Her breath quickened. Her first impulse was still to doubt his words, believe they were some kind of trick. “And for the other reasons, I might be inclined to let that one go.” This was definitely a trick. It had to be, didn’t it? Or stalling, maybe – to avoid telling her that he wouldn’t stop trying to make her dark.

“What are,” She tried and failed miserably to keep a casual tone. “What are the other reasons?” The corner of his lips twitched into a smirk.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll tell you that, Lost Girl.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Yet.”


	62. Another Kind of Exhilarating

“Yet” was quickly growing to a problem, at least as far as Sarah was concerned. It seemed as though with every bit of time they spent together, it grew and changed until it now began to loom like heavy storm clouds at the fringes of their conscience. Watching and waiting. A spectre on the corner of conversation that tugged and whispered, “Let me in – let me in!” Yet was a watchword, a promise, that however far adrift she had been set, they were not yet past the point of no return. What would she do if – when – yet came to pass? She didn’t know. She hadn’t really thought it would be reached, whatever quiet hopes she might have nursed or fed or stifled.

But now, for all the mischief twinkling in his eyes, Pan seemed so close to “yet” that Sarah felt she couldn’t breathe.  She didn’t want to face it, couldn’t wrangle all the feelings whirling a quickstep through her heart and mind. “We should –” She swallowed. “We should probably get back to camp.” If she ignored the looming yet, maybe it would go away. “Wouldn’t want the Lost Boys to think you murdered me, or something.” The twinkle in Pan’s eye danced. He brushed a hand down her sleeveless arm, and when she didn’t move away, he slung his arm over her shoulders.

“You really are cruel, Lost Girl.” He whispered delightedly. “Here I tell you I’m giving up for you, and the first thing you want is to get away from me.” Sarah gulped again.

“You are very close.” Her voice was still far reedier than she liked. Pan chuckled.

“I’ve been closer.” A choking sound escaped her throat. She saw Pan grin beside her from the corner of her eye. He had counted on being terrified himself in his calculations – but he’d forgotten Sarah would be terrified as well. And that, he told himself, was a bonus well worth having. “Sarah.” He breathed into her ear. She was out from under his arm so quickly he was half-convinced she’d teleported. He watched her stiff-held form with great amusement.

Sarah’s heart was pounding in her chest. She had wanted this, hadn’t she? Pan had just agreed – or, well, suggested – that he’d lay aside his quest to turn her dark. He had held his temper, too, even when she’d lost her own. He was showing her that he could be who she wanted. “Peter, I –” Her mouth clamped shut. He raised a brow. “What do we tell them?” She demanded. Pan shrugged.

“Who says we have to?” Sarah’s voice at last began to even out.

“If we’re holding hands and whispering, there’s no way they won’t ask questions.” Problem-solving, the theoretical – they were back in her comfort zone now. The Lost Boys finding out the truth was terrifying, but as a Future Sarah problem it was still better than the feelings facing her now. To her surprise, Pan laughed.

“I would say let them ask,” His voice was wry with edged amusement. “But since you still can’t seem to stomach standing near me, I’d say that’s a problem for another day.” Sarah blinked. He sounded unconcerned, but her avoidance had been what started the fight that brought them out here in the first place. Whatever he had been debating with himself, he must have come to quite the conclusion.

“I could,” Sarah spoke before her brain could interrupt her with its thinking. “I could try.” Pan’s eyebrows raised, and he stared at her with quiet scepticism. _You could do **what**? _Her mind demanded, catching up with her at last. “You’re changing.” Sarah asserted firmly. “For…me.” Her mind complained, _it’s been two days!_ But in a place where time stood still, it felt much longer. Each day and night on Neverland felt an age longer than any she’d lived through back at home. “So I can…try. The hand-holding.” She fidgeted. “For you.”

Pan restrained a laugh, but barely. From the look on her face she might as well have been telling him she could try sticking her hand into a pit full of vipers. He might have been insulted, if it weren’t so amusing. Trying valiantly but ultimately failing to keep the smirk from his face, he lazily held out one hand. Grim-faced yet determined, Sarah marched towards it. She drew a deep breath before reaching timorously out to lay her hand on his outstretched palm. His warm fingers curled around hers as she began to tell her mind it had been right, and this was in fact a very bad idea. But her heart, traitorous organ that it was, began to beat more quickly from a feeling that she wouldn’t quite call fear. 

“I’m no expert,” Pan said dryly. “But if you want me to believe you like me, you might think about trying to show it on your face.” Sarah’s first impulse was to snap back demanding who had said anything about liking him, but she settled for a grit-teeth silence. Pan, enjoying her discomfort even more than the feeling of her half-way willing hand in his own, squeezed her hand lightly. She flinched. “Something the matter, Lost Girl?” He asked casually. Sarah frowned.

“To be frank,” She told him tersely, “Hanging over the cliff was less nerve-wracking than this.”

Pan’s eyes flared. “Am I that _frightening_?” He laughed. “Lost Girl, I’m flattered.” Sarah bit back a growl. Strange as it was, she was starting to think things had been better when they were enemies. At least then things had made sense, and at least then she could blame all her discomfort solely on the boy she was now holding hands with – or on one of his underlings. As things stood now, her discomfort was solely her own creation. She had wanted the boy beneath the beast, but now that he was starting to emerge, she found the boy might be even scarier. All the beast could do was kill her – but the boy!

Sarah had never dated anyone for long. She had dallied, here and there – it was fun to get to know someone, to be around someone who thought she was pretty or smart or interesting. But in the end, they always wanted too much – they wanted to get to know her, as well. The secret places where her hated shadows lurked or where she kept that unreachable shoebox of memory in the back closet of her mind. The places that were hers, and hers alone. She couldn’t tell them that she curtsied to the squirrels or that they’d never feel as real to her as what was in her head. In her world, Sarah had always been Different. To be with someone was to be like them, and she could never mould her Different to their same.

But the boy. Peter had said many times that they were alike, and perhaps – just perhaps – he was right. He was a dreamer, just as she was, though his dreams seemed greatly different from her own. And though she feared the anger deep inside her, her capacity for cruelty and for wrath, she knew its mettle was the same as what made his. They were a match. They were a match, and something in that scared her more than all the mismatched pieces she had dabbled with before.

Pan already knew the parts of her she hated most – and didn’t shrink from them. She didn’t know if that was good or bad. If he were always trying to bring them out it would be bad, of course – but there was something appealing in the idea that she could never frighten him off. Never hurt him if she lost her own control. And as for her fantasy worlds, well. He was Peter Pan. He didn’t just believe in a fantasy world, he lived and breathed the stuff of fairy tales.

No, unlike those who had come before him, Sarah feared very much that to be with him she wouldn’t have to become anything but herself – more herself than she had been in an age. After so many years of work to hide and fit in different lines, stepping out from behind the curtains frightened to her core.

“Cat got your tongue?” Smooth snark gently edged away her thoughts. She had been silent a long time, her arm relaxing to hold his hand absentmindedly as though her body was there, but her spirit had flown away entirely. “Come on, Lost Girl.” Pan needled, lifting their joined hands. “It’s not so bad, is it?” She was silent a moment longer, and he could see her turning over something in her mind. When she spoke, it was without her earlier irritation, without the wall of gruff rebuffing she so frequently put between them. She met his eyes slowly.

“It’s terrifying.”  He couldn’t help it if he enjoyed fear. A trickle of dry laughter escaped his throat, and he stared into her eyes with a fierceness that caught her breath.

“Oh, Sarah. When will you learn? It’s not terrifying.” A wicked grin cut his face. “It’s exhilarating."


	63. Bait

Sarah stared at him. When he tried to pull her closer, capitalise on her moment of openness, she squirmed away. “Has anyone ever told you,” She accused, “That you have a very unusual idea of fun?” Pan smirked. Her fluster told him she was back on the defensive, and he couldn’t say he minded. As thrilling as the brief glimmer of her true feelings had been, teasing her was now and probably ever would be his favourite pastime.

“No one would dare.” He informed her. She snorted.

“Let me be the first.” Her subconscious breathed a shaky sigh of relief as her body relaxed. The looming threat of feelings fell away, replaced by comfortable and more familiar barbs. Pan crossed his arms, assessing her with eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes, explaining, “It’s about time someone knocked that ego of yours down a couple of pegs.”  

“That’s brave.” Pan remarked. “You only say that because you know I can’t hurt you.” It was Sarah’s turn to raise her eyebrow. Pan looked at her derisively. “It’s not a feat to taunt the lion if you’ve tied up all its claws.” She barked a laugh.

“You might be king of the jungle, Peter, but I’d say you’re more of a snake than a lion.” She shook her head. “And there’s no tying up a serpent.” Pan raked his eyes over her in a way that made her wish once again she had opted for a much looser choice of clothing.

“You could try.” He suggested, a flash of mischief racing across his eyes. Sarah blinked.

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting.” She said primly. “But I _am_ certain I don’t like it.” Pan inclined his head, looking down at her as if to say he thought her resistance amusing, and perhaps not entirely genuine. Sarah blew a puff of air through her nostrils as he stepped towards her, a dangerous look in his eye. She sidestepped him, maintaining their distance. “Why don’t you go back to camp?” She suggested. “I have things to attend to.” Pan snorted, gazing at her with abject disbelief as he realised she wasn’t joking.

“What?” He demanded, lightly incredulous. “What things could _you_ possibly have to “attend to”? This is Neverland!” Sarah drew herself up to give him as imperious a look as she could muster.

“That’s for me to know.” She told him coolly. If he was going to try and push her buttons, she would just have to push his right back. Pan rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

“I know everything that happens on my island, remember Sarah?” His voice was bored. “I’ll find out soon enough, so you might as well tell me now.” Sarah smiled, sickly-sweet.

“But where would be the fun in that?” She vanished before he could respond, leaving him open-mouthed. His initial reaction was anger – but then, he smiled. She knew how he liked his games, and this was one he planned to win – in time. For now, he supposed he would follow her suggestion. There was a game planned for the day, and whatever “things” she had to take care of, he was certain his were more important anyway. With a smirk the result of a morning well-spent, he vanished back to camp.

“Things” for Sarah meant first and foremost her willow tree. She greeted it warmly, laughing as its soft branches twined around her in welcome. “I’m back to sleeping in the camp now.” She explained. The leaves shook. “No, I know. It’s…strange. But it’s home.” She wrapped her arms around the trunk, pressing her face to the bark. “Yes, of course you’re home too.” She didn’t know how she knew what her tree was telling her. It wasn’t like the voices in the pond or Neverland’s soft hum in the back of her mind. It was more of a feeling, a subtle emotion she could recognise as being not quite her own. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.” With a sigh of contentment, she swung herself into the branches. “What will we dream today?”

She closed her eyes, waiting for inspiration to strike her. It was here, in the branches of her willow, that she had first dreamed up the statues along the beach and the rings of mushrooms like tiny fairy houses. She felt at peace here, as though her mind could soar over countless unnamed lands to bring back inspiration. She had done quite a lot of Believing today already of course. Her lovely strip of fairytale forest spoke to that. It was the largest change she had made on the island, and it had felt truly fantastical. She had felt as though her fingers were twining through the fabric of Neverland itself, wrapping threads of dream around each other to make something beautiful, magical, and all her own.

It had almost been too much, and when Pan had pulled her out she’d been disoriented, even dizzy. Believing had never made her feel that way before – but then, she’d never believed so much into being all at once. She tried to turn her mind from what was already done, for now. Later she would return; she wanted to talk to the trees there to be sure they still enjoyed being something other than jungle. But as she tried to set her mind adrift, she found it wouldn’t go. She frowned. It was as though something were blocking her, holding her mind hostage to the image of a green-eyed boy with a smirk to please the devil. _Go away_ , she told it sternly. It would not.

Twenty minutes later, she gave up. She opened her eyes with a loud sigh, banishing the image with a few hard blinks from her mind. _This is ridiculous_ , she told herself. She saw enough of him already, didn’t she? Why should he be on her mind when they were apart, too? _The other reasons_ , was her guess. What other reasons could be so compelling as to make him drop his wish for her to become like him? He had taunted her with their similarities for as long as he’d seen them, tried to draw them out and make her embrace them. Was it possible that rather than just wanting her, there was some reason so compelling that Pan actually, well, _liked_ her? There was plenty of evidence that told her that he cared, somehow, in his own irritated sort of way, but even so the idea felt strange to her.

“Ugh, I am not _dealing_ with this right now!” She exclaimed. Or ever, preferably. The tree wavered underneath her, concerned. “Sorry, sorry.” She soothed, running her hand along the bark. “I’m just a bit…distracted today, I guess.” She didn’t think her willow quite understood. She sighed again. “ _You_ don’t have to deal with things like this, I hope.” Willow fronds wrapped over her shoulders. It might not understand, but it knew what would make things better. She brushed her face against the soft leaves. “Thank you.” She whispered softly. 

She climbed down carefully from the branches. “If I stay too long he might catch up with me here. I’ll be back soon.” She pressed a careful farewell kiss against the bark, and with one last affectionate stroke of the leaves, she vanished back to camp.

It was abuzz with activity as Lost Boys gathered weapons and talked excitedly in groups. Kasim and Nibs appeared to be arguing over a patch of dirt, each of them occasionally stabbing a line into it with spear or sword. Cody and Alec wore looks of grim determination, and seemed to be giving each other silent pep talks. “Well, look who flew home just in time.” She turned towards a familiar drawl to see Felix standing calm in the midst of chaos – as usual. She arched a brow as he approached her.

 **­­** “I don’t believe I’ll be playing today, Felix.” She told him casually. He smiled.

“Funny. I don’t _believe_ you have a choice.” Sarah crossed her arms, staring up at him defiantly.

“Who’s going to make me?” She scoffed. The Lost Boys were a great deal less threatening now that she could teleport away from them, not to mention her quiet suspicion that Pan would be more than a little irate, if his response to the cut on her arm was anything to go by, if one of them injured her. Felix chuckled.

“Thinking pretty highly of ourselves, aren’t we little bird?” Her gaze sharpened to a glare. “You don’t even know what we’re playing.” Sarah snorted.

“Xavier said something about a race earlier, but so far every game you play is the same: run around the jungle and fight each other.” She shook her head. “No thank you. My wrists are finally free of rope-burn marks, and I intend to keep it that way.” Felix lifted his brows.

“You didn’t strike me as the delicate type.” She scowled. Not liking rope-burn had nothing to do with being delicate, particularly on an island where dirt and sweat were constantly stinging against the raw skin. “Besides, I would have thought you’d enjoy the chance to beat Pan at a game.” Her head twitched back.

“He’s playing?” He hadn’t played a game yet with the Lost Boys; she had figured he never did. She swallowed her next question – what made Felix think she could beat him – under the assumption that Felix thought no such thing, and was merely baiting her. She covered her disbelief with a headshake. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the game, and how pointless is it for any of us to even try to go up against Pet – against Pan?” A trace of a smile played at Felix’s lips from her slip-up. Calling him by two separate names was starting to become difficult; she’d have to be more careful.

“It’s a simple race.” That sounded suspicious. “Three teams try to be the first to reach a point on the island. Whoever gets half their people to the point first, wins.” Sarah glanced from him to the weapons each of the Lost Boys carried. She didn’t know much about athletics, but she couldn’t remember any races that required swords and spears. “Only half the team has to make it.” Felix proffered, following her gaze.

“Which means the other half are fighting in the jungle.” She rolled her eyes. “Typical.” She stared up in irritation. “I don’t see the point of a race when Pan is playing, either – can’t he just teleport everyone there?” Felix glanced off to the side.

“Well now, that would be cheating.” He said cheerfully. “And –”

“Cheaters never win.” Sarah cut him off. “Right. Still, would anyone even be willing to beat Pan, if they could?” The boy king, she had noticed, did not take losing entirely well. Felix looked around at the Lost Boys busily preparing around them. Yes, she realised. None of them probably thought they could beat Pan, but they would try nonetheless. It would be truly glorious, to see the look on his face if he lost a game on his own island. And hadn’t she just said his ego needed to be taken down a few pegs? “Fine.” Sarah relented at last. “I’ll play, as long as I’m not on his team.” Felix chuckled.

“No need to worry about that, little bird.” Sarah narrowed her eyes. Felix seemed pleased with himself, and that was never good. “You’re on mine.” Sarah tilted her head. She wasn’t sure that was any better, though if anyone had a chance to beat Pan, she supposed it was Felix. She watched as he silently lifted his club in the air. After a moment, several of the Lost Boys left their preparations to come over to them. Teo, Lucian, Cody and one boy she hadn’t met yet formed a circle. Looking around at the group, she thought whoever had placed her on this team had a sick sense of humour. She glanced at Felix, and amended her statement. _Felix_ had a twisted sense of humour.

Teo and the mystery Lost Boy stood to either side of her, while Lucian and Cody kept their distance on either side of Felix. Cody no longer glared at her every time she saw him in camp, as the teasing from the older boys had tapered off with her repeated demonstrations that perhaps she might have tricked and overpowered them too, had they been on guard duty that fateful night. But though the glares had ceased, he still tried to keep his distance. The Lost Girl, though he’d deny it to anyone who asked, frankly terrified him.

For Lucian’s part, he had kept his distance ever since discovering she wasn’t quite so easy a target as he’d imagined. Anyone who would risk going toe-to-toe with Felix was not someone to be trifled with. And anyone who would go toe-to-toe with Pan was certifiably insane. He’d been on extra edge the week she’d vanished. If Pan couldn’t even keep a tab on her, who was to say she wouldn’t pop up one day as he patrolled the jungle, ready to finish her revenge on the Lost Boy who’d thought her weak? Now, he watched her carefully.

The boy to her right seemed oblivious to the impact of the strange girl to his left. She was odd, but then, no one came to Neverland who was quite normal. “I can’t believe Pan’s playing.” He said, his voice tinged with both wonder and excitement. There was no way any of them would beat him. Pan was a master strategist, and a fearsome fighter besides. Even so, they’d try. And if they came even close, that would be a victory worthy of celebration. “Felix, what’s the plan?”

Felix smiled. Ordinarily he’d be as convinced as any of them that trying to win against Pan was a prospect doomed to failure. But today…the game had changed. “Nibs’ team isn’t a threat.” He drawled at last. Teo and the other boy laughed, though Cody looked as though he didn’t quite believe him. “And as for the other team…take out their leader, and we could just as well walk to the ending point.” The laughter ceased. Take out Pan? That was insanity. The only hope they had was speed, or stealth – if they took him on directly, there was no way they’d prevail.

“And here I thought you worshipped the ground he walked on.” Eyes shifted with surprise as Sarah voiced, albeit more caustically, what they were thinking. “What happened to “Peter Pan never fails”?” Felix smiled condescendingly.

“Why don’t you tell us, little bird?” Sarah narrowed her eyes into a glare. She had an idea of what he was getting at, but wasn’t he the one who had told her not put Pan’s business on display? “Don’t look so glum, Lost Girl. You’re the lynchpin in our plan.” Sarah had a very bad feeling about all this. For once, Felix deigned to offer his group an explanation. “No one can beat Peter Pan – but we might stall him.” His smiled widened to a grin as Sarah felt the sinking in her stomach growing deeper. “And lucky for us, our little Lost Girl is going to make the perfect bait.”


	64. Trifling

The group fell silent, with one exception. “I _what_?” Sarah demanded. Felix scrunched his eyebrows in a cheerful mock sincerity.

“Not so loud, Lost Girl. You wouldn’t want Pan to overhear what we’re planning.” Sarah growled.

“Don’t say _we_ like I’m involved with this plan, Felix.” The boy beside her whistled – mouthing off to Felix took some guts. “What do you mean, _bait_?” Felix shrugged.

“Bait, distraction, call it what you like.” He gestured idly to her with his club. “You’ll keep him occupied while the rest of us fight our way to the goal.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to “distract” him?” Sarah demanded. Felix smiled.

“Why don’t you think about it.” Another growl echoed from her throat. If he wanted her to be a part of his crazy plan, the least he could do was fill her in on the particulars. His eyes flickered briefly to her new wardrobe choices. “You’re already dressed for the part.” Sarah didn’t think. She launched herself at the infuriating blonde giant before her common sense could tell her what a terrible idea it was, intent on knocking the condescending smirk from his face. She came to her senses quickly when her butt collided painfully with the dusty floor of camp.

 “Never listen to a word I say, do you little bird?” His nonchalance belied the rapidity with which he had knocked her to the ground. She tried to brush off his proffered hand of assistance, but he responded by hauling her up by her unbandaged arm. He leaned down by her ear to mutter, “How’s that “controlling your emotions” coming along?” Sarah shook him off.

“It’s a terrible plan, Felix.” She grumbled. She noticed Cody edging away from the circle – when she’d launched herself towards Felix, life had flashed before his eyes. Lucian, too, watched her with cold caution. She couldn’t see the looks on the faces of the boys behind her, but she knew she’d heard a snicker when she fell against the dirt. Felix laughed softly.

“Why don’t you boys go back to your preparations?” He suggested. “I think the lady would like a word.” Cody didn’t have to be told twice, and scampered with grateful alacrity back to Alec. The others shifted away as well, leaving Sarah to glare down the remaining Lost Boy.

“I always thought you were smart, Felix.” She said harshly, “But this has got to be the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard. Just how _exactly_ am I supposed to distract Pan? And leave my vest out of it!” Felix lifted his brows.

“Never met a girl who didn’t know how to distract a boy.” He mused. Sarah’s face twisted in disgust.

“You’ve been living on an island with nothing but boys for centuries, how would you know the first thing about girls?” An odd look passed over Felix’s eyes for a fleeting moment. If she had blinked then, she would have missed it – as it was, she couldn’t decipher it.

“Some memories never fade.” Sarah blinked. Was he actually sharing information about his life before he’d come to Neverland? She stayed silent, hoping he might tell her more. His smile returned. “And I don’t need to remember girls to see that you’ve got Pan distracted.” Sarah hid her disappointment – Felix’s reminiscing had been very, very brief. And the words that followed it were dangerous.

“You’re being completely ridiculous.” She huffed. “What are you expecting me to do, sneak up behind him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear?” She rolled her eyes in exaggerated incredulity. “ _That_ ’ll work.” Felix chuckled.

“I think you can do a bit more than that, Lost Girl.” She didn’t know why he bothered to sound surprised. She also didn’t know what he was insinuating, but she had the creeping feeling she wouldn’t like it. “Come on, Sarah.” He tilted his head to look at her as he might a small, stupid child. “You don’t need me to spell it out for you, do you?” The only answer he received was a glare. He smiled balefully. “Kiss Pan.”

Sarah’s face twisted with horror. She sputtered, opening and closing her mouth several times before she managed to choke out any words. “Are you _insane_?” She demanded, when at last she had recovered from the shock enough to speak. “Are you – do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do, Felix?” Felix shrugged as though uninterested, but she could see the spark of mischief behind his eyes.

“I wouldn’t think it’s such a big deal.” Yeah, she’d just bet he wouldn’t. “Since you’ve already done it before.” Her mouth narrowed to a thin line. She felt a stone drop in her stomach followed by tiny prickles of ice that worked their way over every one of her limbs.

“What did you say?” She hissed. Felix narrowed his eyes.

 “Careful, Lost Girl.” His voice was lightly menacing. “Wouldn’t want that temper of yours to attract attention.” She didn’t respond. She couldn’t believe Pan had told him. _Your secret’s safe with me. What a joke._ Her eyes narrowed almost to slits, and she dropped her voice low and menacing.

“You tell Pan.” Each word was sharp. “That he’s not the only one who doesn’t appreciate people spreading his business, and that _since_ he’s decided you need to be filled in on every little thing I do, he can rest very well assured that I am never, as long as I live, going to kiss him again.” Felix’s eyebrows raised at that, though he recovered his casual mask quickly.

 “Slow down, Sarah.” He admonished cheerfully. “I only meant the time he kissed you, after that unfortunate situation with your parents.” Sick horror spiraled up from Sarah’s insides. Felix watched with a certain calm joy as the revelation that she’d just revealed herself that she’d kissed Pan took root. A sinister grin crossed his face. “But thanks for showing me where to rub the salt.” Sarah regarded him cautiously.

“What are you playing at, Felix?” She murmured.

“I already told you that.” Felix drawled. “It’s a simple race, the first team –” She cut him off with a growl. “And it’s a game I happen to feel like winning today. Which means _you_ are going to be a good little distraction.” He smiled patronisingly.  “And since you’ve done it before, what’s the problem?”

She glared up at him, parts of her thinking she might give Pan the shadows he wanted after all to wreak unholy vengeance on his second in command. “The problem,” She grunted through gritted teeth, “Is none of your _business_ , Felix.” The problem was that kissing Pan – again – would open up the largest can of worms that had ever yet been borne upon this Earth. And of course, a part of her – a small, quiet part – despaired at the idea of her first real kiss with him being nothing more than a trick to win some stupid game.

“Besides,” She argued, “Aren’t you the one who told me not to trifle with Pan?” Her voice tapered to a hiss. “This sounds an awful lot like trifling!” Felix peered at her with fake concern.

“It’s only a game, Lost Girl.” He drawled. “And you know how he likes his games.” Her eyes narrowed.

“I also know he hates lying.” Felix lifted his brows. “What’s in this for you, anyway? I didn’t think you had it in you to care so much about a game.” Or about anything, really. Felix shrugged.

“I feel like winning today.” A hint of a smile crept over his face as she glowered up at him, displeased with his answer. “And,” He drawled, “Maybe I want to see just how fast you’ve fallen from the girl who told me she didn’t like Pan, he wasn’t her type, and liking him was, what was it? Ridiculous.”

There is no greater condemnation than the words of one’s own mouth. Sarah regarded him sulkily. “Did you concoct this entire plan just to score a bit of skin off me?” Felix shrugged.

“Might have.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I also want to win. You going to distract him willingly, or am I going to have to get creative?” Sarah narrowed her eyes in return.

“I wouldn’t try to get creative, Felix.” She told him coolly. “You might fry your brain.” Felix laughed.

“Pretty big talk, from the girl who told me the secret she was mad I might know.” A growl echoed from Sarah’s throat. “I’ll tell you what, Lost Girl. That secret’s safe with me.” She tried to squash the hope perking up within her – this was too good to be true. “ _If_ we beat Pan’s team to the end point.” Whatever remained of that little hope died. Sarah sighed in abject irritation.

“I despise you.” She told the blonde giant. He grinned.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He raised his club back into the air, and the other members of their team soon assembled. Felix explained that while Sarah took care of Pan, he would go ahead, taking out other teams as he ran into them. Teo and Lucian would travel as stealthily as they could to the point along an alternate path, while Cody and Martín would follow behind in the path Felix cleared. Sarah had to admit, it seemed a sound plan – if a little dependent on Felix’s faith in his own abilities. The others seemed to accept it as well, with one exception.

“Are you _sure_ Pan won’t be a problem?” Martín pressed, when Felix was done explaining. He turned to her, looking her up and down once and coming away with a face most unimpressed. “You might have won that one game, but Pan is an entirely different beast. What makes you think you can distract him?” Sarah glared at Felix sidelong before muttering,

“I’ll think of something.” And she would – whatever his threats, she wasn’t going to follow Felix’s distraction advice. Maybe she could just hurl a stick at his head or something, hope he could be incensed into a fight. Of course, any one of the Lost Boys could probably take her out on their own, while he just watched and probably laughed. If teleportation was off limits, she imagined magic was too. No, to distract Pan – without resorting to Felix’s methods – she’d have to be clever. An idea started to formulate in the back of her mind. “In fact…Cody.” The small boy jumped, concerned by the Lost Girl knowing his name, and more so by her addressing him by it. A smile crept on to her face. “Forget running to the end with these heathens – how would you like to help me turn the tables on Pan?”

Cody gulped, and wished very strongly that he was on Nibs’ team with Alec. Between Pan and the Lost Girl, it was a very near miss which one he feared the most.


	65. Best Laid Plans

Felix snorted. “Didn’t think you’d want an audience, little bird.” Sarah snapped her eyes to him in a fierce glare.

“Stuff it, Felix.” She ordered. “I’m not following your plan.” Martín and Teo exchanged looks behind her back. Both of them doubted whether Felix’s plan to distract Pan would work, whatever it was, but they doubted even more any plan which Sarah made. She glanced back to Martín, who tried his best to look as though he didn’t doubt her in the slightest. “I’ll only need him for a little bit.” She told the boy’s intended partner. Then, she paused, brow furrowed. “No, scratch that – can you follow Felix alone?”

Martín glanced sceptically towards Felix, not wanting to overstep his orders. Felix merely shrugged. Unlike the rest of them, Sarah had real skin in this game – if she thought she could do better, let her try. Whether they won or lost, he had a feeling he would get what he wanted. Sarah knelt before a wary Cody. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.”

A short time later, hoots and howls sounded as Pan called for the boys to gather round. “Today we play the Triple Race!” He called. “The rules are simple.” He glanced at Sarah with a smirk, and she told her heart very sternly to stop its stupid fluttering. “No magic. The first team to make it with half their people to the endpoint, wins. And the endpoint is…” He paused. She had to hand it to him, his raw charisma was impressive. The boys were raring to go, and even Felix seemed quietly excited. “Deadman’s Peak.” Cheers erupted. Sarah had no idea what anything on the island was called, but she supposed it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be going there anyway. “The three teams will spread out in an arc to start off – your team captains know where to start. May the best team win.” A cocky grin lit up his face. “Boys. Let’s play!”

The three teams spread off like rockets from the camp. They’d have fifteen minutes to get to their start points, then the race would begin. Felix’s team was on the right of the arc, Nibs’ on the left. Conveniently for her plan, Pan was on the center. Martín had told her it was to even out the playing field, or try to – Pan’s team would have to deal with attacks from two directions. They were still expected to win. _We’ll just see about that_ , she told herself. She took deep breaths as they waited at the start point to try and calm her nerves. Her plan was something of a crazy one, but she had hope it might be just crazy enough to work.

 _And if it doesn’t_ – she shook her head. No, she would _not_ stoop to trying to distract Pan with Felix’s methods. _Even if the Lost Boys learn your secret?_ The voice in the back of her mind had picked a fine time to start needling her again. _They’d never respect you again, you know._ Surely it wouldn’t be as bad as all that. _Just another of Pan’s games._ She growled at her thoughts. “Shut up!” She whispered fiercely. Cody, beside her, looked up in fear. He hadn’t said anything out loud – could she read minds, too? He tried to focus on keeping his thoughts very, very blank.

“Sorry.” Sarah told him sheepishly, when she noticed his expression. He looked at her with widened eyes, and she smiled. “I didn’t mean you.” Cody looked away quickly. When Pan smiled, it was usually dangerous. He had seen her smiling with the other Lost Boys many times, and nothing bad had happened to them, but all the same it was a risk he didn’t really want to take. “Are you ready?” Cody nodded stiffly. She hoped he was. There was a lot of places where her plan could go wrong, she knew, but she told herself she didn’t have to stop the entire team – just distract Pan long enough that Felix and the others could get ahead.

When the fifteen minutes were up, she ran. Cody trailed after her, his longer tenure on the island making up for her longer stride. He moved much more quietly as well, but for once Sarah didn’t mind her loudness. She was out for attention, and crashing like an elephant through the jungle was one sure-fire way to get it. She carried a long staff in her hand, identical to the one she’d lost before. For all she knew, it was the same – it hadn’t been there when she’d gone back to the ledge while out of camp. She hoped she wouldn’t have much need to use it.

 Just when she thought she couldn’t run anymore, they heard sounds. Not footsteps, the boys moved too quietly for that, but laughter. Arrogant laughter. She looked to Cody to make sure he was ready. Then, as the sound drew closer, she nodded at Cody. He yelped a warning, then she threw herself to the ground with a blood-curdling scream. The laughter stopped. The echo of her scream faded into silence. Everywhere in earshot, Lost Boys listened. Cody, panicking, forgot his lines. She flashed her eyes at him, and he ran to kneel beside her, making a frenetic show of fussing around her ankle. “Only half the team has to make it, Cody.” She told him loudly, with a straining in her voice. “I’ll be f-” She sucked in a deep breath. “Fine, just go.” She caught sight of bodies through the trees. Brown hood, brown hood – there! Green shirt. She covered up a smile. “Run, Cody!” She yelled.

“N-No,” Cody fumbled over what he was supposed to say. “I won’t leave you behind!” His eyes flickered to the boys coming through the trees. “N-not if you’re hurt?” Sarah wished he’d sounded a little more convinced.

“Now!” She ordered. “Warn Felix!” Cody nodded at last and ran, far and away from where Felix had any plans to go. Sarah panted heavily on the ground. She made a show of trying to use her staff for leverage to get up as a ring of six boys came into her view. Pan nodded to two of the boys and jerked his head in the direction Cody had gone. They followed after him – if all went well, they would meet with Nibs’ team long before her own. She had hoped for more of his group to follow Cody, but she’d take what she could get. She just hoped Cody ran fast enough to make it count. Pan looked down at her, a smirk on his face.

“Having trouble, Lost Girl?” Sarah’s hands clenched on the staff as she blinked up at Pan through narrowed eyes. His brow furrowed.

“I’m.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “Fine.” She pretended as though she were trying to stand once more. “Peachy.” She let out a half-whine that converted on the end into a growl. “Ready to beat you all at this…” She huffed. “Game.” She narrowed her eyes, blinking them rapidly as she did whenever she was trying not to cry.

Pan looked at his remaining teammates and nodded. The three exchanged wary looks, but went ahead without their leader. She turned the resulting smile to a grimace. It was working. Pan knelt down beside her. “Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” He asked softly. A twinge of guilt pulled at Sarah’s conscience. After all her talk at wanting him to care, here she was trying to take advantage of him now that he did. “That’s quite a scream you’ve got.” Sarah tried to push him backwards with her staff. He batted it aside as though it were a twig – she had not put much force in the attempt. He rolled his eyes, although those eyes were smiling. “Just let me look at it.”

“I’m _fine_.” She said again. Once he looked, he’d see there was no problem at all. She told herself she wasn’t actually lying. After all, she had just told him she was fine. It wasn’t her fault if he misread body language. _Keep telling yourself this isn’t a lie._ She tried to shove that little trickle of guilt far down. “Don’t you have a game to play?” She grumbled. “Find me later.” She tried to move again, fake-wincing with the effort. “Or if anything, I’ll just teleport back to camp.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” He remarked lightly. “Magic transportation’s chancy when you can’t put weight on something.” Sarah blinked.

“How do you know?” Had the great Peter Pan actually once been injured? The idea was humanising, and therefore very appealing. Remembering that she was supposed to be in pain, she added in a wince. She was too late.

Pan’s eyes roamed over her legs and narrowed as he saw no bleeding or dislocation. He looked back to Sarah’s face. An unpracticed liar, the guilt gave her away. He stood with a snicker. “Clever.” He said, his tone shifting to something much cooler and sharper. “But not clever enough. I sincerely hope you weren’t depending on that plan.” How long had it been? Not nearly long enough, she was sure. As he turned to run through the forest, she stood. Her brain raced, trying to think of a way to keep him from meeting up with his team. Magic was off limits, which meant…telling herself all the while that this was her dumbest decision yet, she ran at Pan’s retreating back.

She leapt to grab him, but having heard her approach, he turned at the last moment and she missed, crashing instead to the jungle floor. She scrambled upwards, wiping scratched palms on her trousers. Pan watched her with a smirk. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Lost Girl.” He taunted. “Did Felix really send _you_ to try and stop me?” He barked a laugh. “My lieutenant’s losing his touch.”

“Maybe Felix knows I’m stronger than I look.” Sarah told him firmly. She knelt to pick up her staff. “It’s been a while since the last time we fought.” She held her jaw up stiffly. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.” Pan snickered, looking off to the side and back to her.

“You don’t _really_ think you have a chance?” He demanded. Nonetheless, he drew a sabre from his belt. Sarah grit her teeth, and moved her staff to a defensive pose. His first few strikes were light, and she could block them with her staff easily enough. _He’s toying with me_ , she thought with irritation. Well, let him. Every minute was another minute of lead time for Felix. Sarah danced away from him, trying to stretch the fight as long as possible. “I’m surprised you’re putting such an effort into this.” Pan noted idly. His attacks had hastened, and she was panting now trying to keep up. “Considering this morning you didn’t even want to play.”

“What. Can I say?” She huffed between blocks. “I just _love_ running around the jungle getting into fights I’ll never win.” As if to prove her right, his blade nimbly twisted the staff from her hands. He brought the tip to her throat, and sulking, she raised her hands in surrender. _Think, Sarah._ Deception had failed, as had fighting him head-on. Pan slid the sword back in its scabbard with a laugh.

“Better luck next time, Lost Girl.” _Think faster!_ She grabbed his hand. He looked from it to her in surprise.

“Peter, wait. I–” She faltered. She wasn’t thinking fast enough. He smirked as comprehension dawned.

“Oh _now_ I see what Felix thinks he’s doing.” He laughed. “I suppose you didn’t tell him that you can hardly even bear to stand next to me?” Sarah’s hand fell away. She was batting zero for three. His hands scooped up her own. “It’s a shame.” He told her smoothly, holding her transfixed with his steady gaze. “I’m sure you would have made for quite a _fun_ distraction.” Something coarse tightened around her wrists. When had he managed that? She broke his gaze at last, trying to push him away and wriggling her wrists. It was too late. They were already tied.

A growl ripped from her throat as she tried to yank the remaining rope from his hands. “This is overkill.” She complained. Pan tugged on the rope, and she was forced to stumble forward. She watched with growing annoyance as he walked it around a tree – and tied her to it. “Peter!” She yelled at his repeating back. “Get back here!”

“Don’t worry Lost Girl.” He called lightly over his shoulder. “I’ll come back for you after I win.”

Sarah continued to struggle against the ropes, trying to wriggle out from the ones around the tree if not the ones around her wrists. She groaned as a familiar sensation began to sting – rope burns. She knocked her head lightly against the bark several times, and groaned. “I knew I should never have played this stupid game.”


	66. Freedom

The worst part about being tied to the tree was that it gave her time to think. She had failed in her mission to distract Pan, and so chances were good that by the end of the day, the Lost Boys would know she had kissed him. She could always disappear again, she supposed, but that felt way too much like losing, to Felix no less, for her to be ok with it. _Maybe it won’t be so bad_ , she told herself. Maybe they wouldn’t lose _all_ respect for her. _Because they had so much of that to begin with_ , the less wholesome voice in her mind oozed. _Dressing like a girl, kissing their leader – just what do you think they’ll say about you? I wonder._

She shook her head with a growl, wincing as it knocked against the tree. Surely her friends among the Lost Boys wouldn’t treat her differently, even if the rest of them did? It might take them some time to adjust but…they’d come around, probably. And if they didn’t…she was half-way tempted to cheat, to port away from the hateful ropes until she found Pan and could tackle him to the ground, properly this time, to keep him from setting foot on Dead Man’s peak until the rest of her team had made it. She knew in her heart however, that would never work – if she cheated, the team would be disqualified.

If she could just get away from the tree, even with her hands still tied, she might at least be able to try and distract him again. Maybe the shock of seeing her escape – if she could even catch up to him – would be enough to stall a few precious moments more. And if nothing else, at least she’d have a lot more room to breathe. She struggled to lift both legs off of the ground. If there were any room at all, she’d – there! Slowly but surely, Sarah felt herself inch down along the trunk. She could feel the rope cut tight against her bodice, and was happy for the protection of the leather. Her arms were not so lucky, and as they passed under the ropes, they stung. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as it ran roughly over her bandage. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she felt it tear. In the end, she was rewarded when she sank at last in a heap on the jungle floor.

There was just one problem now. Her hands remained above her, as he’d tied her to the tree with the same rope that bound her hands. Gingerly she stood, examining the circle of knots around her hands. The tie-line to the tree, at least, she thought she could untie. It was fastened over the ropes on her hands, and after some frustrating work with her teeth, it came free. She had no such luck with her wrist bindings. Frustrated but determined, she finally threw the length of rope over her shoulders, and set off at a fumbling run through the jungle.

The absence of Lost Boys as she ran was disquieting, to say the least. Had the game already ended? She didn’t think she’d been out of commission for that long, but it was hard to tell with the way time passed on the island. At last, over the sounds of her own huffing and puffing as the ground began to rise, she heard the sounds of combat. She slowed, gasping to try and catch her breath as quickly as she could. When she no longer sounded like a dying fish, she crept forward. There was no way she’d be able to fight anyone with her hands tied up, so staying out of sight until she found Pan was her best bet.

There he was! He was moving through a crush of Lost Boys, from Nibs’ team as well as her own, as gracefully as if he were dancing. How many years of practice, she wondered, did it take to disarm your opponents with that tiny flick of the wrist, all while you were speeding towards a goal? It wasn’t easy terrain, either. She knew now where she was, saw the boys picking fights along the ridge by the pond. None, she was pleased to see, were attempting to scale the boulders to reach their goal.

She had made that quite impossible, in the time she’d been away from camp. Long thick vines now covered the rocks, full to bursting with lengthy thorns that spiked in clusters along every bit of the plant. It wasn’t all bad, for she’d imagined flowers too – velvety blue drops like ladies’ skirts, dark as the night sky with yellow stamens hanging down like the clapper of a bell. She thought they were beautiful – but the thorns were the focal point. She’d been dwelling on her anger towards Felix that day.

Sarah pushed her way up the path past the startled faces of Loto, Teo, and others. It seemed most of the groups had arrived at the same time, despite her best efforts. “Peter Pan!” Pan glanced backwards, his brows raising in surprise at the sight of his irate Lost Girl charging towards him, hands still tied, rope thrown over her shoulders. He paused on the other side of the gambit of Lost Boys, and grinned.

“Miss me already, Lost Girl?” He called back. Sarah set her jaw and ran at him. _This is a_ stupid _idea!_  Her mind all but roared. Surprised by her latest antics, the other Lost Boys scrambled out of her way. Pan was almost on the narrow ledge that led further up the peak by now, and there was little room for him to sidestep her charge. He planted himself firmly, confident he could stop her.

He had forgotten that Sarah was more solid than she looked. The two crashed to the ground, narrowly missing the ledge, and Pan blinked up at her in shock. She was glaring at him, and it occurred to him that tying her to a tree had perhaps been a bit too much, after all, if her reaction was anything to go by. Then again…he wasn’t exactly complaining. “Well _you’re_ awfully forward today.” He remarked quietly. A low growl reverberated from her throat, and he smirked. “Didn’t I tell you, if you want to get closer all you have to do is ask?”

He could have sworn he heard her teeth grinding as she clenched her jaw. His remarks made her want to spring off of him and put as much distance between them as she could. But there were larger things at stake. “There’s no need to be so…aggressive.” Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Not that I mind, exactly.”

“Shut up, Peter.” She whispered fiercely. He grinned. “Just stay down until Felix reaches the peak, and maybe I won’t have to throw us both over this ledge.” Pan laughed. As if he’d ever let his lieutenant beat him at a game.

“And what’s got you so motivated?” He flashed his eyes for emphasis at the end of his sentence. “When just this morning, you didn’t want to play at all.” Sarah looked off to the side.

“None of your business.” She grumbled. Being laughed at by Felix for revealing her own secret was bad enough. She wasn’t going to let Pan know what she’d done, and certainly not that Felix was successfully blackmailing her. For one thing, she was half-way surprised Pan hadn’t already told the camp himself. Pan smirked.

“Shame.” His tone imitated regret. “Then I guess I can’t be of assistance.” He rolled them over and leapt up with astonishing alacrity. Sarah tried to scramble up after him, but without the use of her hands it was a difficult task. She watched in despair as he disappeared around the bend in the ledge – with two of his Lost Boys trailing after him.

Help came as she tripped and struggled with the rope in an unwelcome form. Felix reached a hand down towards her, eyebrows raised. “You were supposed to be at the peak already.” She sighed. As he lifted her by the shoulder, he shrugged.

“You were supposed to keep him distracted.” A victory crow sounded from above. Felix raised his eyes upwards, then back to her. “Too late now.” She drooped as Felix borrowed someone’s sword to cut her ropes. She had tried, hadn’t she? With the sound of victory from on high, the Lost Boys ceased their fighting. They congregated on the ledge as Pan and his teammates descended once more from Dead Man’s Peak. The other Lost Boys cheered as Pan congratulated them all on a game well played. Then, he told them to return to camp – he’d meet them there, and they would all enjoy a celebration. As he vanished, the Lost Boys whooped, and began to move as one back towards the camp.

Sarah shuffled along in their midst, and was surprised to see that Felix remained beside her. He didn’t seem excited as the other boys did – but then, he rarely did. He glanced down, catching her watching him. She scowled and looked away. “Seems to me we had a deal, Lost Girl.” He sounded bored, but even so the threat was unmistakable.

“No one can beat Pan.” She argued. “Isn’t that what you all keep telling me?” She crossed her arms as they walked. “It hardly seems fair to expect me to do the impossible.” Felix smiled, though he kept his eyes ahead.

“Didn’t ask you to beat him. Just distract him.” He glanced down at her again. He pitched his voice low then, so as not to be overheard by the crowd of boys surrounding them. “Just how far are you willing to go, to keep that secret of yours?” For all the world he sounded amused. Sarah grit her teeth to keep from growling and drawing attention to their conversation. What did he mean, how far was she willing to go? Was he trying to blackmail her even more than he already had?

“What do you mean, Felix?” She hissed from the side of her mouth. “What do you want?” Felix chuckled.

“Not a thing from you, little bird.” Sarah struggled to keep from scowling. “So I guess the real question is, what are you going to do to stop me?” A strangled sound escaped her throat as she smothered another growl. She covered it with a cough as Loto, walking ahead of them, turned to glance back at her over his shoulder. When he had turned around again she edged closer to Felix.

“Are you trying to get me to threaten you?” She demanded, her voice a harsh whisper. From the corner of her eye she saw his mouth twitch upwards. “ _What_ is so funny, Felix? What do you get out of this?” Felix gave a half-hearted shrug.

“I had hoped I’d get a victory.” This seemed awfully vindictive for only a game. “But I guess Pan doesn’t find you as distracting as I thought.” Sarah furrowed her brows.

“Are you _jealous_?” Felix snorted. Loto turned around again, wondering what kind of trouble was brewing behind his back, but he slowly turned back around under Felix’s steady gaze. He also inched himself forward, just in case things came to blows behind him. When the coast was clear, she continued, “Because if that’s the case, I will absolutely step aside – that frustrating bundle of contradictions is all yours.”

“Don’t be stupid.” His condescension was palpable. He looked around at the other Lost Boys. “Better think fast,” He warned. He cleared his throat as if to speak. Sarah’s eyes widened. Was he really going to do this? Felix pitched his voice louder. “You did what now, Lost Girl?” He was really going to do this.

“Felix!” She hissed. She swore she could see ears prick up around them. “Felix you overgrown spider monkey, I will murder you in your _sleep_.” He turned his head to look down at her, a lazy look of contentment on his face.

“Well now,” He drawled, loud enough for the entire company to hear. “Did you all hear that? Sa –”

“Yes, fine, alright!” Sarah cut him off, loudly and abruptly. She tried her hardest to ignore the eyes focusing on her and pressed on. “I kissed Pan. It happened. Anyone who has something to say about it is more than welcome to say it to my staff.” She scowled. Her staff was once again abandoned in the jungle, she realised.  “Or maybe even a fireball.”

The train came to a slow halt as the boys fell silent as the grave.  Even the background noises of the jungle seemed to quiet in that moment, as though the island itself were settling into shock over her confession. Sarah glared with venomous fierceness at the tall, scarred blonde. “Are you _happy now_ , Felix?” She demanded. Infuriatingly, he only raised his eyebrows as though surprised by her outburst. She growled again as he gave a lazy shrug.

“Called it. Pay up!” A less than hushed whisper reached her ear before Felix could answer, if he intended to at all. She turned her head slowly towards the source in time to see two of the Lost Boys from Pan’s group – she didn’t know their names – exchanging a small dagger. The one giving it up had a scowl nearly fit to match her own. The one on the receiving end waved it at her with a grin. “Thanks a heap, Lost Girl!”

“Yeah, thanks.” The other one grumbled. Sarah blinked. This was…not what she had expected. Had they all been making bets? Who else had guessed, and how? She wouldn’t look at their faces to try and guess, but at least for now she heard no jeers or laughter.

“Truth’ll set you free, little bird.” Felix murmured beside her, as the Lost Boys began to slowly move again. “Welcome to freedom.” He pushed her shoulder forward so she would walk again, then fell back within the column of boys so he could walk alone.


	67. Honesty

Sarah glared after him for as far as her neck could crane. _Some freedom._ She thought grumpily. _Thanks a lot._ Then again, now that the secret was out…well, at least Felix couldn’t blackmail her any further with it. In that sense, she supposed she was free – but she hardly considered it something to be thankful for.

Still trying to crane her neck in a glare, she didn’t notice until she bumped into him that Xavier had made his way up to her. She regarded him cautiously, nervous of how their friendship might be changed by her revelation. He strong-armed her off to the side of the group of boys, perhaps more forcefully than necessary considering she wasn’t putting up much resistance. “Is it true?” He demanded. Sarah looked guiltily off to the side. She nodded. His silence led her to glance back. His brows were furrowed as though concentrating very hard. Finally, he all but exploded, “Why didn’t you _tell_ us?” Sarah winced. She opened her mouth, but Xavier wasn’t done yet.

“When did this happen? _How_ did this happen? Is this why you disappeared? Why Pan was so angry while you were gone? Is –” His barrage of questions thankfully came to an end as Arthur appeared, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. Sarah glanced up at him gratefully at first, but felt her stomach tighten into even more knots when she saw the look on his face. She gulped. 

“I thought I told you to be careful.” For an island with no adults or parents at all, Arthur had the tone of “I’m not mad, just disappointed” down pat. She looked away.

“I know.” She said at last. Arthur frowned. He wouldn’t exactly call kissing Pan being careful.

“You know he – ” She cut him off. Whatever warning he was going to give, she had probably scolded herself with it already.

“I know.” Many steps passed in silence. “It’s –” Sarah felt her throat began to tighten. _No_ , she pleaded. _Not right now_. She blinked aggressively at the start of stinging in her eyes. She’d already lost an irreparable amount of face today, she wasn’t going to add crying to the mix. “It’s very complicated?” She twisted the end of her sentence to a question to hide the high-pitched pinching out of her voice. Arthur remained silent.

“Well, _duh_.” Xavier rolled his eyes, oblivious to her rising distress. “It’s _Pan_. I mean yeah, he’s gorgeous – but in the “look but don’t touch” way, like fire. Or a bear.” A choked laugh escaped from Sarah’s throat. “Is this why he keeps bringing you into his tent?” The laugh died. Sarah sputtered.

“No.” She managed at last. “No, definitely…not really.” Arthur and Xavier exchanged glances. “It’s not like that!” Sarah insisted. “It’s –” This was humiliating. “Look. Could we just, maybe, _not_ talk about this?” She stared pointedly at the path they walked along. “I wouldn’t have told anyone at all, if Felix hadn’t twisted my arm.”

“ _Felix_ knew? You told Felix, but not us?” She might have known, with Xavier’s fondness for stories and even greater fondness for exaggeration, that he’d be a busybody. The fact that Pan’s lieutenant, who he knew Sarah hated, would be told before him, her friend, was insult to injury. Sarah sighed, casting her eyes upwards.

“It wasn’t on purpose.” She groaned. “Believe me, Felix is the last person I wanted to know – for this exact reason.” Arthur’s calmer voice cut in.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t.” Xavier turned to complain, but a look from Arthur silenced him. Arthur glanced at the boys to their left. “Though I can’t promise no one else will.” Sarah sighed. She could already hear whispers and louder from the boys around them, and when she happened to catch Loto’s eye he coughed and looked away. She squared her shoulders.

“I showed you all before that I belonged here.” Sarah said firmly, almost as much to herself as to her friends. “Now I’ll just have to show you…again.” Her shoulders slumped. “I guess.” She hadn’t even won all of them over the first time, she knew. How much harder might it be now? After a moment, Arthur gave a halting laugh. He was worried about Sarah, there was no denying that, but at least she seemed to be walking forward with both eyes open.

“If you keep barreling people over just to win a game, they’ll come around in no time.” He didn’t quite believe himself, but Sarah’s grateful half smile was worth the white lie. “Now come on, let’s hurry back – after fighting up Dead Man’s Peak, I’m starving.”

They were met at camp with the crackle of roaring flames. Rather than the small bonfires the Lost Boys sat around in groups each night, tonight there was one big fire in the centre of camp, as there had been the first night she’d stepped foot in it. _Fitting_ , she mused. _Since I’m back to square one with the Lost Boys now._ She hung back as the others filtered excitedly towards a rough bench covered over with steaming plates of food. Pan had outdone himself in his imaginings, and if she hadn’t been so fixated on her own troubles she might have considered that perhaps his winning wasn’t such a bad thing, if this is how he reacted to it.

“Come _on_.” Her thoughts were interrupted by Xavier slinging an arm around her neck in a near headlock. “Stop brooding and let’s eat.” She disengaged herself from his grasp with a snort, but followed nonetheless. The conversation around her seemed to have shifted for the most part to the adventures of the game – though she still caught wind of whispers that she couldn’t help but worry were about her. Especially when she saw the whisperers smirking. She grit her teeth, trying her best to ignore them as she filled a plate and followed Arthur and Xavier to a group of logs. Rasheed and Nibs appeared shortly after, and she noted Nibs seemed hesitant to join them.

Her heart fell, but she did her best to cover it by staring sternly at the food on her plate, avoiding his eyes. “Nothing’s changed.” She asserted. Rasheed sat gracefully on the log beside her, unperturbed – he’d had his suspicions since her disappearance. Nibs, on the other hand, remained standing.

“Was I the last one to know?” Sarah looked up, surprised at the almost forlorn tone of his voice. “Koya and Deon were placing bets. Rasheed said he’s known ever since you got back to camp.” She saw Rasheed nod, to her horror, from the corner of her eye. “Was it just me?” Sarah tilted her head, perplexed.

“Are you.” She paused, confused. “You’re unhappy I didn’t tell you – you don’t think less of me?” Nibs furrowed his brows.

“Why would I?” He glanced at Arthur and Xavier curled up closely on their log. He gestured towards them. “No one thinks any of less of – agh!” Sarah had set her plate down and stood to fling her arms around the boy who’d said what she wanted most to hear. Nibs coughed and squirmed. “You’re not going to kiss me too, are you?” Sarah released him with a laugh – he sounded genuinely concerned. Nibs looked off to the side, apparently embarrassed. “It’s just – Pan is very territorial.”

“Right.” There was amusement in her voice now. “Sorry Nibs, won’t happen again.” Nibs coughed again, nodded, and took his seat at last – on the opposite log from Sarah. She took her seat again and picked up her plate, glancing sidelong at Rasheed. “Have you seriously known all this time?” Rasheed shrugged.

“Your expressions when questioned are not subtle.” Sarah looked away. She couldn’t deny that. “And both of you stare when you believe the other isn’t looking.” Her eyes snapped back up.

“What? I don’t – wait, what do you mean, _both_?” Rasheed merely shrugged again, returning to his dinner. Sarah opened her mouth to protest further – she didn’t stare at Pan, if she was looking at him at all it was just to be sure he wasn’t getting up to some new mischief. She was about to tell him as much when another voice interrupted her.  

“I guess you were right, Xavier.” Loto strolled over to their group, mouth full of food. “Pan really did – oh.” He stopped when he noticed Sarah sitting with the group. When she glanced up at him, she looked away. “Uh. I’ll talk to you later, I guess.” He spun on his heels to go. Sarah sighed loudly.

“You know I’m pretty sure I trounced you the last time we fought, Loto.” She challenged. Loto paused. “If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face – or I’m happy to have you say it to my sword.” He turned back around slowly.

“You’re –” He closed his mouth again, an odd expression on his face.

“I’m what?” Sarah asked impatiently.

“You’re a girl now. A real one.” Sarah threw her hands in the air.

“What was I before, made of wood?” Loto looked uncomfortable.

“But now you’ve got…kissing. And,” he gestured in her direction. “Clothes. You’re not supposed to fight girls.” Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Plus you’re Pan’s now, so...” Sarah stood abruptly.

“I’m not “Pan’s”. I don’t belong to anyone Loto, not Pan or anyone else. Just me.” Loto raised his hands defensively.

“I just meant –” Whatever he meant, Sarah was not having it.

“I kissed Pan once. It was one time. That doesn’t give him ownership of me, it doesn’t make me any more of a girl than I was before, and it doesn’t make me any less able to trounce you.” She glared. “So anytime you want to go, I’m ready.” She’d awakened his ego.

“Oh yeah?” He demanded. “You didn’t look so tough when you were collapsed in the jungle today. That scream certainly wasn’t tough.” Sarah smiled unpleasantly. She’d been concentrating too hard on her plan earlier to really notice the other members of Pan’s team, but thinking back she did remember Loto’s long dark hair peaking out from under one of the hoods.

“It’s called a ruse, Loto.” She told him condescendingly. “You’ll notice my ankle is perfectly fine.”

“Why do you need a ruse if you’re so tough?” Sarah growled. He had her there, but she wasn’t going to admit it.

“Because it’s _Pan_.” She looked off, grumbling. “I said I could beat _you_ , not your high and mighty leader.”

“If you two don’t knock it off, the food’s going to vanish before you eat it.” Arthur’s voice cut into their argument. Sarah turned, blinking. Her food had never vanished on her before she was done with it. Then again, she wasn’t the one who had believed this food into being. She looked back at Loto. Then, she sighed.

“Truce?” She offered. He tilted his head upwards, considering.

“Truce. Move over, Nibs.” Nibs edged along his log to make room for Loto, who joined them. Xavier demanded details of what ruse Sarah had thought might distract Pan, eager to turn the topic back to his favourite type of story: adventures. Sarah obliged, substituting the part where she thought he might care about her injury with thinking he might like to crow over it, something the boys did an admirable job of pretending to believe. When she got up to the point they had all seen – tackling Pan to keep him from the peak, Nibs interrupted.

“That was terrifying, but what I don’t understand is why you cared so much? You didn’t even want to play this morning.” Sarah looked away. Then, she sighed. They already knew the outcome, she supposed it couldn’t hurt to know the lead-up as well.

“Felix said he wouldn’t tell anyone about – the thing, if we beat Pan’s team to the endpoint.” Nibs furrowed his brows. That was surprisingly underhanded for Felix, especially for something as small as a game. He didn’t ordinarily care so much. “And you can all see how that worked out.” She shifted on the log. “Figured it was better to say it myself than let him embellish it. And at least that way I could get in a threat.”

“How did Felix even know?”

“Oh, I know a lot of things.” Felix interrupted cheerfully. They all looked up, surprised by his sudden presence behind Arthur and Xavier. “Maybe the trees tell me.” Sarah recovered first, her extreme irritation with the boy overriding her surprise.

“Pan tells you, you mean.” She sniped. Felix turned his head to glance down at her.

“How’s honesty treating you, Lost Girl?” She yearned to wipe that pastiche of sincerity from his voice.

“Like you should sleep with one eye open.” She spat. Felix smiled.

“I always do.” He glanced at Loto.

“It’s true,” Loto assured her through a mouthful of food. “Can’t even get the jump on him when he’s sleeping. It’s –” He broke off with a disappointed sigh as the plates of food vanished from in front of them. Apparently Pan no longer believed in dinner.  

“Boys!” A smooth voice cut over the cacophony of the camp. It was time for the real celebration to begin.


	68. Music

The others stood, and after a moment Sarah followed their lead. They drifted back towards the main fire, where the rest of the Lost Boys were congregating. Pan stood in front of them, light and shadow from the fire at his back flickering over his face and frame. “Well played today, boys.” He called out. The boys around her cheered. “It was a close race! I can see you’ve gotten better.” His eyes roamed over his assembled minions, and Sarah had the oddest feeling he was talking to her directly. A glance at the faces of the Lost Boys told her they felt much the same, and she marveled at his ability to so entrance this crowd. “Perhaps next time, one of you will even beat me.” It was a lie, of course – but one the Lost Boys were happy to hear.

“And now that you’ve feasted, I think it’s only right we celebrate – such bravery and skill as no grown-ups now or ever could match!” The whoops intensified. “I’d like to play you all a song.” Sarah glanced around her, holding back a laugh. A song? Pan’s idea of a celebration was for them to watch him play guitar, or something? None of the other boys were laughing. From the folds of his tunic, Pan drew out a set of thin reeds bound together. _Pan pipes. Of course._ He drew the instrument to his lips and blew, eyes closed in concentration.

Sarah scrunched her brows. She didn’t hear anything. Evidently the Lost Boys did, for they began first to sway and then to circle the fire, dancing to some unknown music. Now they seemed truly entranced, their steps growing faster and wilder, cloaks swirling in the air as steps turned to leaps. Her eyes flickered back and forth, concerned, between the Lost Boys and Pan. He continued to play, swaying now himself.

His eyes opened to Sarah staring back at him with worry. He paused, narrowing his eyes. Why wasn’t she dancing? He waved his hand over the pipe, letting it hover in the air behind him. Sarah assumed it must still be playing, as the Lost Boys did not stop their wild dancing. Pan crossed the space between them quickly, shadows lending his face an even darker mien. “What.” Sarah’s voice came out as a whisper as he drew close. “What did you do to them?”

“It’s music, Sarah.” He too kept his voice low. Though the tone was smooth, she could feel a hint of threat. “Don’t they dance to music where you’re from?” Sarah nodded stiffly, her eyes still on the boys.

“But they seem…” She brought her eyes carefully back to Pan. “Entranced.” Why had his edge returned? She wondered if he’d heard about her announcement, if he was angry that the boys now knew their secret. No, it wouldn’t be that – just this morning he’d _wanted_ to expose what was between them. “And –” She paused.

“And what, Sarah?” Pan asked carefully. She winced.

“I don’t hear anything.” Pan’s eyes widened.

“Is that so?” Sarah nodded cautiously. “Interesting.” Sarah frowned, and he could see the question forming on her face. He smiled. “This is a special pipe.” He explained. “Only boys who feel Lost can hear it, which means you…” He trailed off, looking her over. Sarah fit so well on the island, even without her odd connection to its magic. Sure, there’d been that spot of trouble with her parents, but once she was certain they weren’t in misery over her she’d fallen back to place quickly enough. Was it possible he was wrong? “I suppose it means you aren’t Lost after all.”

Something guarded had slipped into his tone, and Sarah felt a trickle of worry creep over her. If she wasn’t lost, she couldn’t be a Lost Girl. And if she wasn’t a Lost Girl…who would she be on the island? She took a deep breath to calm the nerves building up inside her – then laughed. “Peter.” A smile crinkled around her eyes. “Repeat back what you just said.” Pan frowned.

“I don’t like to repeat myself.” He warned. Sarah waved her hand dismissively.

“Only boys who feel lost can hear it, Peter. Only boys. Boys.”  She laughed again, relieved to have an answer that wouldn’t end in a change to her place in the camp. “In case you haven’t noticed,” She teased, “I’m not a boy.” Pan’s brows furrowed, then relaxed. Of course. Magic could be quite touchy at times, and he had enchanted the pipe specifically to find boys. He should have realised Sarah wouldn’t be able to hear it. He smirked then, looking her up and down in a way she did not quite appreciate.

“Oh believe me, Lost Girl.” He told her smoothly. “I’ve noticed.” Sarah was glad for the warmth of the fire to mask the warmth spreading over her face. She looked away, mumbling,

“Next thing I imagine is a very billowy cloak.” Pan reached towards her sleeved shoulder, running a hand lightly over her arm. Though frightening, it was not an altogether unpleasant feeling. Still, she jerked her head in the direction of the fire. “The boys are right there.” She whispered fervently. Pan laughed.

“They won’t notice.” He glanced over at his pipe. “Trust me.” His hand found a resting place intertwined with her own. “Besides, I hear they’re quite aware of your feelings now.” She couldn’t be sure if it was the fire or his own dark mischief that made his eyes dance so. “Feeling a bit bolder, are we?” Sarah’s mouth formed a thin line.

“Feeling a bit blackmailed.” Pan raised his brows at the sternness of her tone. With a sigh, Sarah explained, “I accidentally told Felix – no, I don’t want to hear it.” Pan had opened his mouth, probably to mock her for letting slip the secret he’d promised her he’d keep. He shut it again with a wry smile. “I accidentally told Felix, and he said if we didn’t beat your team to the endpoint, he’d tell the other boys.” Well, that explained her drive to win. “And since he was about to anyway, I figured it would be better not to let him embellish things.” She glanced off to the side.

“I think I need a word with Felix.” Pan murmured at last. The steely tone to his voice worried her. However he was with her now, she knew that Pan was capable of some truly frightening things. _Felix can take care of himself._ Her mind argued. _Besides, whatever Pan will do, he probably deserves it – maybe then he’ll think twice about sticking his nose in your business._ Unhappy with the conclusion she reached, Sarah let out a loud sigh.

“Don’t.” She proffered. Pan looked at her in surprise. His second in command was starting to get out of hand – it wasn’t just Sarah’s business Felix was meddling in, it was his – and Felix ought to know better than anyone that he didn’t take kindly to such things. Sarah sucked in a deep breath. “For one thing, I’d rather have a word with him myself – it was my secret, after all.” Pan tilted his head. It was his secret too, really. “For another, it…” She grit her teeth, and he could tell whatever was coming pained her. “I suppose in a way it’s nice.”

Well, that was unexpected. “Nice?” Pan repeated, unbelieving. Sarah grimaced.

“It hasn’t gone as badly as I thought. I had to talk some sense into Loto, of course, and I’m sure not all the boys will feel the same as the ones who know me best, but…” She shrugged. “I guess Felix was right, in a sense. It kind of feels like a weight off my shoulders.” Suddenly, she narrowed her eyes. “But don’t you _dare_ tell him I said that, Peter Pan.” Pan moulded his face to a look of innocent surprise.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He said lightly. Mischief tugged at the corners of his lips. “But it sounds to me like one more secret I’m keeping for you.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed further. He squeezed her hand. “Try to hang on to this one a bit tighter.” With a growl, Sarah tried to disengage herself from his grip. Laughing, he spun her around instead so that her back was against his chest, and his other arm over her waist.

“Let go of me, Peter.” Sarah ordered, unamused. Pan laughed, resting his head against the hollow between her neck and shoulder.

“Come dance with me.” Sarah scoffed, still squirming. She didn’t want to admit he was a pleasant sort of warmth.

“Last time we “danced” you threw a dagger at my head.” She reminded him testily.  “Besides, I can’t hear the music, remember?” Pan chuckled.

“Not still mad about that, are you Lost Girl?” She tugged at his arm, and at last he relented, letting her go with a wry smile. She stepped away from him with a huff.

“ _Yes_.” In truth, the event felt very far away – though if she thought about it, she was sure she’d still be angry. For now, however, the irritation was an easy way to cover the truth of her racing heart. Dance, with Pan? With all the Lost Boys around, even if they were enchanted? “Why don’t you dance, and I’ll watch?” She suggested coolly. Pan frowned in mock disappointment.

“Come on, Sarah.” He needled, “Where’s the fun in that?” Sarah stood firm.

“Come to think of it, I didn’t see you dance at all at the last celebration.” She peered at him as though suspicious. “Stepping around the clearing a bit is one thing, but how do I know you even _can_ dance?” Pan scoffed.

“You won’t trick me that easily, Sarah.” He knew a redirection when he heard one. He held out a hand. Sarah eyed it skeptically.

“Still can’t hear the music.” Pan sighed. He waved a hand, though it took a moment for her to realise what he’d done. He must have stopped the pipe’s playing, as several of the boys broke off from the circle and took seats with the large drums she had seen her first night in camp. As they began to play, the circle continued its dancing, several of the boys adding their own rhythm by beating sticks together as they circled around the flame. Sarah narrowed her eyes, gazing at Pan suspiciously. “Are you mind-controlling them?” She accused. Pan laughed, soft and low.

“They’re having _fun_ , Sarah.” Her eyes remained slitted. They could be having fun while being mind-controlled, she reasoned. Seeing her continued suspicion, Pan rolled his eyes. “No, I am not mind-controlling them. Come on.” She protested as he grabbed her hand, but followed him nonetheless back to the circle of dancers. “Ladies first.” He told her with a smirk. He mistook the glimmer of mischief in Sarah’s eye for the fire.

“Age before beauty.” She tugged her hand forward to swing him into the circle of revelry. He narrowed his eyes at her for a fraction of a second before letting out a whoop, joining with the others in the madding throng. Sarah laughed in spite of herself to see him, the fearsome Peter Pan, shouting and jumping with the other Lost Boys. He looked so carefree and innocent, the farthest possible thing from the demon she had named him. For once when her heart began its flutterings, she didn’t try to order it to calm. What could be wrong with liking a boy like this?

When next he passed her by, he reached out and grabbed her hand. This time she didn’t resist, following his pull into the circle with a shout, losing herself to the rhythm, and the dance, and the night.


	69. Business

When Sarah awoke the next morning, the events of the night before felt fuzzy. She hadn’t been able to hear the strange enchanting pipe, but she wondered if it had affected her nonetheless. How else to explain her loss of inhibition in dancing around the fire with the Lost Boys, with Pan, even with Felix? She had been as lost as any of the boys in the celebration. She smiled to remember it, the heady, blissful feeling of absolute freedom. She couldn’t say for certain when they fire had died down and they had all shuffled back to their tents, but it had been very late.

The best part was that none of the boys had questioned her place in their circle. She knew it couldn’t last, of course – they’d accepted her in their celebrations her first night in camp, but acceptance during the day had taken far longer. Still, it was nice. She stretched carefully as she rose, slipping her vest back over her shirt and tying the laces carefully. It was cooler than usual this morning, and she wondered if even Neverland had seasons. Looking around at the thin walls of her tent, she hoped it didn’t have winter. If it did, she might find herself convincing Arthur and the others to let her join them in their warmer, body-filled tent.

She peered cautiously through her tent flaps and, seeing no green-clad impediment, stepped out into the morning air. She could see several Lost Boys were already up and about, though it appeared most of them were still sleeping. She was half-way tempted to go back to sleep herself, but she had things to take care of before the rest of the camp was truly awake. Rather than teleporting herself, she set out from camp at a leisurely pace. As cool as the morning was, she thought the movement might warm her up.  

She hadn’t gone far along the path to the pond when she caught sight of Felix, returning from a walk – or perhaps some other business – of his own. She nodded stiffly as he approached. “Felix.” The icy tone of her voice did not suggest what she’d told Pan the night before – that in a way, Felix had been right about the freedom to be had in honesty. Felix lifted his brows.

“Lost Girl.” He looked from her along the path he’d just come down. “Not running away again, are you?” Sarah scoffed.

“I think I’d be moving a little faster than this.” She narrowed her eyes. “Though after your stunt yesterday, believe me – the thought has crossed my mind.” Felix tilted his head.

“Yet here you are.” He drawled, as though amused.

“Didn’t want to give you the pleasure.” She retorted. “Since I’ve decided to stay, I won’t be that easy to get rid of.” Felix snorted.

“Little bird, if I wanted to get rid of you you’d be long gone by now.” Sarah gazed at him suspiciously.

“Are you telling me you actually _want_ me in camp?” Felix shrugged.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” He placed his hand lazily behind his head, club resting between his elbows and his shoulders. “Certainly less quiet since you showed up gibbering on the beach.” Sarah swallowed a growl. She was about tell him she did not gibber – but her first night on the island, she had to admit that she had. He looked off into the jungle with a sigh. “But, I suppose he’s picked worse infatuations in the past.” Sarah stared.

“Be careful, Felix.” She warned. “That almost sounded like a compliment.” A hint of a smile tugged at Felix’s lips.

“Course, he could have picked better, too.” Sarah snorted. It didn’t bother her that Felix thought Pan could do better than her, but she was curious as to what better entailed.

“Oh yeah? And what’s “better” in your mind, Felix?” Felix whistled.

“That’s for me to know, little bird.” Sarah was not impressed.

“If you’re going to insert yourself in my business, Felix, I’m going to return the favour.” Felix began walking past her, only to have her appear again in front of him. “Come on, Felix.” She needled. “What kind of person would _you_ pick for your illustrious leader?” Felix rolled his eyes.

“I’ll start with quiet, and knows when to leave well enough alone.” Sarah laughed.

“You really think Pan would go for that?” Felix looked off to the side, saying boredly,

“A boy can dream.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Certainly make my job a lot easier.” He looked back to her. “And if he had, I’d be back in camp by now.” Sarah stepped out of his way, raising her hands in a conciliatory manner. Shaking his head slightly, Felix continued along his path. He hadn’t gone far when Sarah yelled after him,

“I’m still mad about yesterday!” Felix looked over his shoulder with a wry expression.

“Whatever you say, little bird.” He turned back around. “Whatever you say.” Shaking her head, Sarah resumed course along her own path. It had been several days since she’d last visited the pond, and with all her scrabbling in the dirt yesterday she was anxious to feel clean again. When she reached the still water, she drew a deep breath and sighed. It was so peaceful here, as long as Pan wasn’t around, and it stood in the running for one of her favourite places on the island.

Not wanting to walk around the rest of the day in damp clothing, as she often did, she took some precautions. Her first step was to imagine the rock arch melding together to block the entryway, so that she wouldn’t be interrupted by any boys who might have the same idea she did. Her next move she wasn’t entirely certain would work. She had managed to keep Pan from teleporting into her willow tree, but she had the feeling it had more to do with her tree not wanting him there than anything she had actually done. She looked around at the majestic rocks which now encircled her.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to help a girl out?” She asked tentatively. “Just keep him out for a little bit, just in case?” She didn’t feel an answer, but she’d found rocks rarely gave a response. If they did, it came quite slowly. Hopeful that they had heard and would help her nonetheless, she slipped out of her clothing and into the water.

She had scrubbed and was soaking blissfully uninterrupted when she began to hear voices. Startled, she looked around her. Seeing nothing, she closed her eyes, straining her ears for the source of the sound. It was coming from just beyond the rock arch. She felt some regret at leaving the water when she’d been so relaxed, but dried off and dressed again quickly. She could hear the voices getting louder, as though they were arguing about something.

When her last lace was tied, she closed her eyes and saw the rock melting away to restore its original form. Her eyes opened on the shocked faces of Kasim, Loto, and the boy who had lost the bet yesterday. Sarah coughed. “All yours.” She offered at last, stepping through the arch. Kasim looked from the arch to Sarah, then shrugged and stepped through towards the pond.

“Did you – ” Loto was not so easily put off. “The rock. It – ” He narrowed his eyes. “It was _you_.” Sarah’s brows raised as his tone turned accusing. “You turned my ambush ferns into a flower garden!” The other boy was staring at her grumpily.

“If I’d known you could do that, I’d still have my knife.” He grumbled. He’d thought it ridiculous that Pan would take an interest in some boring, silly girl from the land without magic. Even once she started to really gain a place among them, he’d figured she was more of a boy than a girl at any rate, so there was no way Deon could be right that her disappearance was what had their leader so on edge. If he’d known she could control the island the way Pan could, he’d never have taken the bet.

“Shut up, Koya.” Loto barked. Koya rolled his eyes, following Kasim through to the pond. Sarah turned her attention back to Loto, who was still glaring at her.

“I just thought a change would be nice.” She shrugged. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll ask it if it wouldn’t mind changing back.” Loto’s jaw dropped.

“Ask it?” He demanded. “What, you just…talk? To ferns? And they change into rose bushes?” Sarah glanced off to the side.

“I mean there’s a little more than that, but basically.” Her tone turned needling. “Come on, Loto – this is Neverland! You just have to believe, right?” Suddenly, Loto’s look turned cautious.

“Does Pan know?” Sarah’s brow furrowed. She would assume he did, since she’d transformed the island in front of him. But why should it matter either way? “Even if any of us _could_ change the island, he’d be furious if we did. I’d be careful if I were you, Lost Girl.” Sarah laughed.

“Not my fault If the island likes me better than you hooligans.” She teased. “If Pan wants to stop me, I’d like to see him try.” Loto shook his head grimly.

“You are one crazy, crazy girl.” He looked her in the eye, his expression serious though his voice was not. “I might even miss you when Pan gets tired of your defiance.” Sarah smiled. That was two almost-compliments from Lost Boys today, she was off to a pretty excellent start.

“At least if he does it today, I’ll be clean.” She walked past him, shoving him towards the arch as she did so. “Something you might want to consider for yourself.” Loto growled, but disappeared behind the rocks anyway. Shaking her head, Sarah made her way back to the camp. Her favourite tent had awakened, and she joined them for breakfast in high spirits. Today, she had a feeling, was going to be a very good day.


	70. Right

By now, Sarah ought to have known not to think such things where the universe could hear her. The first signs of trouble began, as they so often did on the island, after breakfast. She was choking on her last bite of breakfast – an unfortunate result of a particularly hilarious story from Xavier about his first week on the island – when Pan came to join their group. She was too busy coughing to hear his soft footsteps behind her, or to notice the warning look on Arthur’s face across the circle.  

She was startled, therefore, when his bright voice sounded sharply behind her. “Well, you’re in high spirits this – _what_ did you do to your bandage?” His tone dropped quickly to one of irritation as he beheld the mess Sarah had made of his ministrations. He had started to notice it in disarray yesterday, probably from her wriggling out of the ropes he’d tied her with, but had been far too distracted to look further.

 He wondered now if it had reopened the cut, as through the wet mess around her arm he could see faint spots of brown poking through. It was hard to tell, however, with all the streaks of mud. She had been in the dust several times yesterday, between faking her injury and tackling him to the ground. Evidently she hadn’t bothered to knock away the dust before whatever adventure had wet her hair and arm but not the rest of her and turned her bandage to a damp, muddy mess.

The only answer she managed at first was one hand up to tell him to wait as she coughed violently. Finally, throat clear and eyes watering, she looked up at him. “It’s called a bath, Peter.” Nibs alone let his discomfort with the use of their leader’s first name show on his face, though fortunately no one’s attention was on him to see it. Sarah blinked, sucking in a deep breath to try and make up for her recent lack of oxygen. “I assume you’ve heard of one?”

Pan frowned, over both her disregard for basic wound care and her cheek in front of his Lost Boys. Seeing his expression, Sarah smiled. “It’s fine,” She assured him, “I can barely even feel it today.” That was mostly true. Pan narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He placed a hand firmly on her shoulder. “Come on, Lost Girl.” Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but a subtle head shake from Arthur warned her off of it. With an aggrieved sigh, she stood and followed Pan to his tent. “Sit.” She sank heavily onto his pallet with another sigh of protest.

“You know, you could try _asking_ me to do things instead of ordering them.” Pan looked at her darkly as he sat and began to unravel her messy bandage.

“I’m still your leader. Leaders give orders.” His tone brooked no argument – but then, Sarah had always been fond of hopping brooks. And today, her cheery mood made her doubly prone to doing so.

“Still implies you were my leader to begin with.” Pan raised an eyebrow, unamused. “If you ever treated me like the other Lost Boys, leader might work – as it was, I’d say ‘tormentor’ would be more accurate. Or ‘enemy’, maybe. ‘Bane of my existence’.” Pan paused, his hand with a clean damp cloth hovering above her arm.

“Is that really how you see me?” His tone was nonchalant, but she could see something in his face that suggested he was far more invested in her answer than he let on. His expression was oddly thoughtful, a look she’d seen rarely from him. She swallowed.

“It…it was.” Pan set the cloth down and drew his eyes up to her own.

“And now?” There was a question – and what a question it was. Sarah tore her eyes away after only a moment.  
“Well, I guess I can’t say you’re my enemy,” She mumbled. Pan chuckled.

“Not your enemy, not your leader…what does that make me, then?” Her mouth flattened to a line. _Confusing._ She mused. _A headache. Much too charismatic for your own good._

“Well, I certainly can’t complain about that last bit.” Her eyes snapped back to his mischievous grin, horrified to realise her thoughts had in fact been muttered aloud. “Oh was I not meant to hear that?” He teased, faking regret. “Come on, Sarah, surely _we_ can be honest with each other, after everything?” A growl formed in the back of her throat. “It’s not as though it’s a secret that you like me, so what’s the big deal? I know, Felix knows – even the Lost Boys know!” He was starting to get a handle on when her glares were genuine, and when they were a ruse aimed at covering her discomfort. This one, he was fairly certain, was the latter. “The only one who still seems to be denying it is you.”

Pan brushed a hand over her wrist, and she drew her hand away. “Never said I liked you,” Sarah grumbled. Pan grinned.

“Fortunately for you, I’m quite good at reading between the lines.” Sarah began to think that she had spoken much too soon – a very good day, this was not. “Why not try being honest with yourself?” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

Sarah doubted it very much. “I’m sure.” She sniped. “With you and Felix mocking me every time I do? Thanks, but no thanks.” She fixed him with a glare that he unsettlingly felt might be genuine. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not a toy? I don’t care to be laughed at, especially not by you.” She broke her gaze to the side. “Look, it wasn’t that long ago you were my greatest enemy, and now you’re,” Her fists clenched and her lips curled back in a frustrated snarl. “You’re just…you’re confusing, Peter.” There was a long silence then – he hadn’t expected his teasing to bring forth such a confession.

“My sweet little Lost Girl,” He said at last. Sarah’s eyes snapped back up to him, annoyed with his use of diminutive. “Has it not occurred to you that maybe, just maybe this is as odd to me as it is to you?” Sarah’s eyes narrowed. With all the “others” Felix had told her about? She found it hard to believe. “Really.” His voice was far too bright to convey any real sense of sincerity, even if what he was saying was true. “In fact I suppose I should be thanking you for your reluctance – otherwise I might have to deal with real feelings.” He looked at her in a way that she supposed was meant to be serious. “And you know how I feel about those.”

Sarah couldn’t help it. Her scowl became a snort, and the snort became a hesitant laugh, and Pan felt an odd quiver to know that he was, for once, the reason she was smiling. “You’re incorrigible,” She accused, but this time her eyes sparkled as she did so. Pan blinked, feeling suddenly, inconceivably, nervous. He cleared his throat.

“I like it when you do that.” He spoke so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. She furrowed her brows. “Smile,” He explained, glancing off to the side. Sarah stared at him a long moment before laughing again.

“Has it occurred to you,” She asked wryly, “That you might have seen me smiling this entire time if your first reaction to me on the island hadn’t been to throw me in a cage?” Pan scowled.

“I said I could read between the lines, not see into the future.” She smirked at the hint of petulance in his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d turn out…the way you turned out?” The smiles that seemed to be laughing _at_ him, he decided, he did _not_ like.

“And what way is that?” She asked innocently. She was just as aware that the tables had turned, and felt it only fair that he suffered as he’d made her suffer, only moments ago. Pan glared. “Not entirely hideous?” She suggested, with only a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“I –” He shut his mouth, finding it difficult to defend against his own past words. “I didn’t mean that,” He grumbled at last. Sarah smiled, though it wasn’t of the pleasant variety.

“Oh, I know,” She told him. The exaggerated happiness of her voice accused him. “You only said it to hurt me. Or annoy me maybe – to get under my skin, at any rate.”

Pan frowned. He couldn’t deny that that was why he had done it, but it hardly seemed fair to bring it up now. Things had changed, after all. “Look,” He argued, “What does it matter what I say you look like, anyway?” Sarah raised her eyebrows sceptically. If he was trying to help his case, this was an odd way of going about it. “Anyone can be pretty, but – ” He clamped his mouth shut in a huff.  

Sarah’s heart began to beat a little faster. As Pan’s silence continued, she prodded softly, “But?” Pan glanced to her expectant face, then away, and sighed.

“You have…substance.” Sarah’s brow crinkled. Was that a crack about her size? Pan stared at the ground in front of them. “You’re not just one thing, and even when I think I have you, you challenge me. You change the game.” He had taken a small knife from his belt and was fiddling with it, turning it over in his hands. “You’ve got fire,” He said at last. He chucked it away as in defeat, landing it point-first into a support pole of his tent. “I like fire.” There was a long moment of silence, and just as he was starting to grow irate with her lack of response, he felt her cool hand close around his own. He looked back to see steely determination on her face. “What are –” She cut him off.

“Be quiet,” She commanded. “Or I might change my mind.” His brows first furrowed, then rose high as he realised she was leaning in towards him. His breath caught in his throat, an unfamiliar feeling, and then his eyelids fluttered closed as her soft lips found his own. It had been a long time since he’d kissed anyone, and for a moment he almost feared he wouldn’t remember how it went.

Sarah, on the other hand, had kissed before and recently. She had always found it something of an awkward experience, and this time was no different – save one small thing. Intermixed with the awkwardness was a sort of warmth, a comforting feeling that settled over her to calm her fears even as it drove her heart to a wilder frenzy than any time but those when she’d been fearing for her life. This time, unlike any other kiss she’d shared before, felt _right_.

She pulled away after only a moment, sooner than Pan would have liked, but he was smiling nonetheless. She pulled her eyes away, suddenly embarrassed. Would he tease her again, now that she’d given him what he wanted? “Don’t say anything, Peter,” She ordered sternly. Or as sternly as she was able – he could see the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Fine.” He agreed, to her surprise. “But if I can’t say anything, neither should you.” With a smirk, he leaned in and kissed her again.


	71. Certain Things

The second kiss was longer, and the third still more so. Sometime between them, she couldn’t pinpoint right when as distracted as she was, she edged herself forwards and reached a hand up to cradle the side of Pan’s face. Just as she had feared, now that she’d allowed herself to kiss Pan she felt incredibly loathe to stop. The fact that he had hauled her off from a group of Lost Boys who would no doubt be expecting her to return before too long was far from her mind. Her mind as a whole was unusually quiet for once, all processing power directed towards the simple but electrifying joy of their lips locked together and their bodies inching ever closer. A fourth kiss was unfortunately interrupted as Pan traced his fingers down her bare arm – and over her unbandaged cut.

She pulled away with a hiss of pain at the same moment Pan realised what he had done. Lost Boys might not apologise, but he at least had the decency to look something like sheepish. “Let’s get that bandaged up then, shall we?” Sarah nodded. The softness of his voice combined with what they’d just done had her in the oddest mood, floaty and giddy as though she were thirteen again and mooning over the ending of a particularly cheesy shoujo manga. As Pan picked up the abandoned cleaning cloths, she couldn’t restrain herself. A giggle erupted from her throat, high-pitched and bubbly and feeling quite foreign in Pan’s rugged tent.

For his part, Pan almost dropped his cloth in surprise. He looked at her in shock. “What was – what was that?” He demanded. He’d witnessed her in hysterics before, of course. But the giggle was something new, something so soft and girlish he could hardly believe it had come from the same throat that had growled and grumbled at him so many times.

Watching his face, Sarah couldn’t help it. She giggled again. “Stop that.” His look of genuine distress bordered her on a third giggle, but then the stinging sensation of his cleaning away jungle mud from her cut quickly brought her back down to earth.  Pan, determined to hear no more of the unsettling sound, had set to hastily back to business. “You reopened this.” It sounded more like an accusation than a statement, and Sarah gave a halfhearted shrug.

“I thought I felt something when I wriggled out of those ropes.” She returned his irritated glance with what she hoped was a haughty look. “Maybe that will teach you to leave me tied up to trees.” Pan finished tying a clean bandage around the cut.

“Or maybe it will teach you to stay put, like a good little captive.” Sarah snorted. She had little intention of putting herself in the way of more rope burns anytime soon, but if she did manage to find herself back in the rough hold of ropes, she had no intention of being a good little anything. She was about to tell him as much, but his hand trailing from the bandage down her arm knocked the thought from her mind. She met his eyes, pleased to see the old, cold shadows far away.

“Thank you, Peter.” She whispered, though with only the two of them in his tent no one was likely to overhear her. Soon, she was kissing him again. _This could be dangerous_ , she realised, a thought all but confirmed by her ability to brush it off as soon as it arose.  Things were going swimmingly well, in her opinion at least, until Pan ran his hand along the neckline of her vest and sent shocks through her skin and her brain into an overload of panic.  She sprang away again, leaving Pan to stare with a look of vague concern.

“Something the matter, Lost Girl?” He asked slowly. It was true he liked that she was unpredictable, but between the giggles before and her renewed skittishness now, he was finding that a little predictability might not be so bad. It had seemed as though she were enjoying herself, and he certainly had been as well. Sarah, meanwhile, was trying to decide how best she might communicate what the problem was – preferably without being mocked for it. She ran her hand nervously where his offending hand had been, and slowly Pan put two and two together.

“Peter, I – ” Sarah stopped, her mouth forming a tight line as she clutched nervously at his pallet. “I don’t – ” Pan stopped her with another soft kiss.

“Time stands still here, you know.” He told her wryly. “This is Neverland.” She could tell he’d misunderstood the problem, not that she could blame him. He ran a hand gently down the side of her face, and even he was surprised by how gently he could behave when given the right motivation. “We’ll go as slow as you like, Lost Girl.” His promise did not have the desired effect. If anything, it made her look even more uncomfortable. She disengaged herself from his hold, curling her knees to her chest and staring at the ground. Pan frowned. She opened her mouth, then closed it. She glanced at him, then away. She tried again. 

“Peter, you should know I –” She stopped, embarrassed. “I’m not – I don’t.” She sighed, clutching at the back of her hair with a hand. _Spit it out, Sarah_ , she ordered herself.  “I’m not… _interested_ in…certain things.” That was probably about the best she could manage. Pan raised his brows.

“Certain things.” He repeated. “Meaning...”

“Yes.” Sarah barked. That was another reason she’d never dated anyone for long. “So if that was your “other reasons”, you should…you should look somewhere else.” After a long moment – too long for Sarah, almost painfully so – Pan barked a sharp laugh. She whirled her head up, glaring at him with eyes full of hurt.

“Sarah,” His tone was cajoling. “I’ve lived on an island with no one but boys for centuries. Do you really think, if –” He paused, then continued with a smirk. “‘Certain things’ were that important to me, this is the life I’d have chosen?” The glare softened to a look of suspicion. Sarah was still on the defensive.

“Is that not what the others were for?” Pan rolled his eyes, a gesture Sarah little appreciated.

“No.” He said flatly. But then with a shrug, he amended, “Well, maybe one or two – but not generally.” Sarah sat silent, digesting this new information. There was a chance he was lying, of course, but one or two over centuries – he really did seem nonplussed about her revelation. Certainly he was taking it far better than any of the other boys she had told. Her discomfort crept back in as a smirk crept over his face. He needled slyly, “I suppose this explains why teasing you is so easy.” Sarah growled, but his only response was to reach out and sweep her into a hold against his chest.

“Peter!” He only laughed at her protest of such treatment. His warmth was pleasant in the chillier than usual air, but Sarah didn’t want him to think manhandling her was an acceptable response to her growls. That, and in pulling her towards him she had landed in a less than graceful sprawl. “Let me go, Peter.” She ordered, trying to right herself and slip from his grasp at the same time. It was less than successful. With a groan, she gave up struggling. “I should get back outside.” She grumbled. “You might remember I have people waiting for me to come back.” Pan laughed.

“I’m certain they can entertain themselves.”

“And you can’t?” Sarah groused.

“Oh sure, I _could_ ,” Pan mused, “I’m sure the boys could be rounded up for another game. You liked being the flag, didn’t you?” She growled.

“I said entertain _yourself_ , Peter.” Even facing away, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“What do you think I’m doing now?” She craned her neck back to glare at him from below.

“Being a pain?” With a smirk, he bent and kissed her again. They both felt her resistance melt as she leaned into him, and his lips formed a victorious grin even as they kissed. When he pulled away, her face was warm. “I –” She stuttered, her brain feeling not quite up to the task of complete sentences just yet. “You – don’t think you can use that to get out of trouble, Peter!” Pan raised a brow.

 “And why would I want to get out of trouble?” The innocent tone of his voice was a sharp contrast to the wicked gleam in his eye. “When trouble with you is so much fun?” He reveled in the confused irritation on her face, as though she weren’t sure whether he was trying to compliment her or bait her. She erred on the statistical side of caution and schooled her face back into a glare.

“You’re insufferable.” She accused, even as she relaxed back against him.

“So nice of you to notice.” After that they stayed resting against each other in comfortable silence for a time, Pan for once too wise comment on her closeness. He did have things to attend to on the island, eventually, but for now he wanted nothing more than to revel in finally winning over his obstinate Lost Girl.

Outside, the group Sarah had left was beginning to speculate. It was Nibs who began, grumbling, “How long does it take to bandage an arm?” when Sarah’s absence began to stretch. Xavier, unhappy to be interrupted at almost the climax of his daring tale of adventure from yesterday, glowered.

“They probably just got in a fight or something, Nibs, you know how they are.” He could count very few times that Pan dragging Sarah away had ended with her returning to them in a timely fashion. He had no reason to believe this time was any different, and he was certain Sarah would show up again, probably a few hours from now, with a fresh glower on her face over whatever it was Pan did that made her so angry with him all the time.

“Do I?” There was a dark undertone to Nibs’ voice that Xavier didn’t understand. Next to him, Arthur raised an eyebrow. He understood what Nibs was getting at, but he wasn’t entirely sure why he would care. Seeing the question, Nibs scowled. “Sarah’s a Lost Girl.” He asserted. “She’s one of us. He shouldn’t – ” He clamped his mouth shut. Saying there was anything Peter Pan should or shouldn’t do bordered on treasonous, and there were ears everywhere in camp. “She’s one of us.” He repeated.

Arthur stared at him a long moment, thinking. Privately, he was also worried about the business between Pan and Sarah – but he didn’t think anyone else was. They were all loyal to Pan, but Nibs had been on the island a long time- almost as long as Felix – and he’d never known the boy to second-guess their leader before. Nibs skirted his eyes away from Arthur’s stare, another thing that struck him as odd. “Nibs,” He began carefully, “Are you jealous?”

Nibs' face contorted in anger. “That’s ridiculous.” He snapped. When the widened eyes of his companions told him his vehemence was hurting his case, he toned his expression down to a frown. “That’s ridiculous.” His voice was calmer this time. “Look, you just don’t remember when he actually brought girls to the island. He – ” Nibs paused, looking furtively around them before continuing, “He likes games. You know he does. He’d never play this one with one of us, but…” He trailed off.

Rasheed was growing bored with these proceedings. Since Sarah’s revelation the day before, it seemed he couldn’t go anywhere in camp without hearing it talked about. As he’d put the facts together long before his less observant brothers, it was old news to him and he was tired of hearing it discussed. To that end he piped up, hoping to lay the matter to rest amongst his tentmates at the very least. “If it is a game, Sarah is on equal footing.” The others stared. No one who played a game was on equal footing with him, ever. Rasheed had always been sceptical of her abilities in any case, so such a remark came as an extra shock.

Seeing their disbelief, he shrugged delicately. “I do not think it is a game.” Gracefully, he stood from his log. “I’m bored with all of this, and the jungle tells me it has an adventure waiting. Are you coming?” Nibs shook his head, not mollified by Rasheed’s assertions. He and Arthur exchanged looks, and Rasheed could tell they would stay behind to worry more. Xavier at least bounded up to follow him. He kissed Arthur quickly before running to grab his sword from their tent, while Rasheed moved more calmly to collect his staff. With Alec and Cody cajoled into following behind them, they set off into the jungle in search of adventure.


	72. Banthear

_This isn’t so bad_. With Pan warming her back and for once peaceably silent, Sarah would almost say she was enjoying herself. She worried that as soon as one or the other of them opened their mouths, the spell would be broken – but for now, she was perfectly content. She closed her eyes as she rested her head against him, breathing in his familiar scent of earth and stone. They couldn’t stay like this forever, she knew. For one thing, everyone who had seen her walk into Pan’s tent would be bound to talk – they probably already were with how long she’d stayed in here. For another, she wanted to go and speak with her forest today. Maybe she’d speak to some of the other jungle trees too, see if they might like to try being something different.

These pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, inexplicable sensation that made her bolt upright. She had felt an odd tug out of nowhere, though she couldn’t have said where she felt it or what had caused it. To add to her confusion, Pan was sitting up now too, with a similar look on his face to her own. “Did you – ” He looked at her in surprise.

“You felt that?” She nodded carefully, and his brow furrowed. Business-like, he stood. “We’ll discuss that later. For now, go to your tent.” Sarah frowned. How many times did she have to tell him she wouldn’t be ordered around, and certainly not by him? Pan was too distracted to notice, having already moved to yank his knife from his tent pole and put it back on his belt. He left the tent swiftly, and she could see him looking around the camp. “Felix!” His voice was urgent, and his lieutenant wasted no time in ambling over.

With Pan blocking her exit, he couldn’t expect her to just leave. What was she supposed to do, push her way past him when he was in a mood like this? _You can teleport_. She pushed the thought away, doing her best to conveniently forget as an excuse to stay right where she was. Sure, eavesdropping was morally grey – but if he wasn’t going to include her in his plans, he couldn’t fault her for trying to find out herself. And besides – he _was_ blocking the door. She held her breath, not wanting to remind him she was there, and tuned in.

“We don’t have time for you to walk there, don’t argue with me about this.” Pan’s irate tone came as no surprise, but the fact that Felix might argue with him did. Between the odd sensation, Pan’s sudden mood shift, and a Felix who didn’t follow Pan’s orders to the letter, Sarah was beginning to worry. Felix was speaking too quietly for her to make out what he said, much to her disappointment. “No, none of the others. Just you.” Silence followed. She saw a curl of red smoke just drifting from the entrance of the tent. The two were gone.

She had no intention of going back to her tent, but little idea of what else to do. It wasn’t as though she could poof around the island until she found them, they’d probably have done whatever it was and come back by the time she’d searched a quarter of it. It would be easier if she were Pan – then she’d just know where they were, and could teleport right after them. She felt the tugging sensation again. This time, though she couldn’t explain how, she thought she could feel the direction it was coming from. She closed her eyes, focusing as hard as she could on the feeling. She reached out tentatively to the island – and opened her eyes wide in shock.

She didn’t just know where the tug was coming from, she could now tell that Felix was in the same place. She could also feel where everyone else was on the island, everyone except Pan. It was an overwhelming feeling, and she swayed unsteady on her feet for a moment trying to sort through and block out all the new information. She closed her eyes again as the wave of information fell away, focusing now on only where Felix was. He was in the middle of the jungle, and she presumed Pan was with him. With a steadying breath – she hoped this would work – she disappeared into fine green smoke.

When she opened her eyes, she almost cried out in alarm. Rasheed and Alec were fighting with an enormous black beast, something between a panther and a bear. Xavier lay nearby, eyes closed and looking pale. She didn’t see Cody. Pan was striding quickly towards the group, knife in one hand and the beginnings of flame in the other. Felix was close behind.

At the sight of fire, the creature reared. With a sharp jerk of his head, Felix ordered Alec and Rasheed away – they seemed reluctant to leave the fight, but in the end fell back behind their leader. With a flick of his hand, Pan sent the fireball towards the creature. It was all she could do not to cover her ears at it let out the most piercing roar. With a shudder, it swiped a massive paw towards Pan. Felix was there before she could call a warning, batting the incoming limb with his club.

Pan was not in the mood for this today. He had put some dangerous animals in the jungle to make it more exciting, but most of them avoided him and the Lost Boys on principle – they were really only trouble for outsiders now. Usually. Part of him wondered if Xavier had been antagonising the thing, and resolved that if so the boy was going to be spending the next few days in the shadow dell – and he wouldn’t be able to take Arthur with him, either. He snarled as he stared the thing down, silently ordering it to go back to whatever it had been doing before deciding his Lost Boys would be a good day’s entertainment. It roared again, rearing up in defiance.

This time, Sarah did cry out. And more than that, she ran forward without thinking until she stood next to Pan with her hands held up, ordering whatever the creature was to stop. Pan whipped his head to the side, his face contorted with anger as he snapped, “I told you to – ” He trailed off as the creature returned to all fours. It snuffled, bending its head towards Sarah. Her eyes were wide, her jaw locked, and he could tell she was terrified. All the boys who were able stared as the creature knocked its huge head against her hands, then turned and shuffled off into the jungle.

Sarah stared after it, panting. Then, she remembered why she was so worried in the first place. She pushed past Felix towards Xavier on the ground, looking him over for signs of what she had convinced herself was a deep, fatal wound that was probably bleeding out. She didn’t see any. A shadow fell over her as Felix nudged her away, and she backed off to allow his experience to take over. “Where’s Cody?” She demanded of Alec and Rasheed.

“We sent him for help.” Alec proffered. “Did he…did he not make it back?” She could hear the worry in the young boy’s voice, and it reverberated with worry of her own.

“He’s getting back to camp.” Pan’s voice was carefully controlled. “Where I think you should follow.” He jerked his head in the direction of his lieutenant. “Felix will look after Xavier.” With grim nods, the two set off in the direction of camp. They had a feeling a storm was brewing, one they had no wish to be around for. “Felix?”

“Knocked out.” Came the calm reply. “Couple scratches. He’ll be fine.” Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, which quickly turned into a yelp as Pan strode over and gripped her arm harshly.

“I told you to go to your tent.” He snarled. She let out a puff of frightened air, meeting his eyes defiantly.

“I. Don’t. Take. Orders.” She narrowed her eyes. “And it’s a good thing I don’t – I just saved you Peter! Or didn’t you notice?” Pan scowled.

“I had it under control. I don’t need you jumping in on my business.” Sarah threw her hands in the air.

“They’re my _friends_ , Peter- it’s just as much my business as yours! Besides –” Her nostrils flared as she cut off.

“Besides, what?” Pan demanded testily. Sarah’s eyes flickered over to Felix ad back again. She lowered her voice.

“It might have hurt you.” Pan’s eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. He couldn’t think of the last time someone had worried about him – as the most powerful boy on the island, no one ever had a need to. He did his best to suppress a laugh, he didn’t think it would be wise when she looked so serious. In the end, he failed and was rewarded with a glare. “What’s so funny, Peter?” She demanded hotly. “Am I not supposed to care about you?”

Over his patient, Felix restrained himself from sighing. Sarah was not nearly as quiet as she thought she was when trying to be subtle, and when she was annoyed she dropped even that pretense. Sitting sideline to lovers’ spats had never been on his bucket list, and he tried very hard to look as though he wasn’t listening while he waited for them to finish so one of them could teleport Xavier back to camp. He could carry him himself if push came to shove – but teleportation would be less jostling.  

Pan at last got himself back under control. “No one’s worried about me in ages.” He told her lightly. “Sarah, I’m the king of Neverland. Nothing on this island can hurt me.” Sarah scowled. She hated to be laughed at, especially over feelings.

“Yeah, well.” She grumbled. “It sure didn’t look like it from where I was standing.” With a low chuckle, Pan moved closer, wrapping an arm around her reluctant waist. He was more than ready to return to the business the island’s warning had so rudely interrupted. Though he was admittedly a bit annoyed that the banthear had listened to her instead of him, he was willing to stick that feeling on the backburner for now.

Felix coughed. Fights were one thing, this was quite another. Sarah sprang readily away from Pan, who looked at his lieutenant irately. “If one of you aren’t too busy,” He drawled, “Sure would be nice to get Xavier back to camp.” Sarah’s face grew hot with embarrassment as Pan strode over, picking Xavier up carefully. With one last annoyed look toward Felix, he vanished. Felix glanced over to Sarah, brows arched. She looked pointedly away. “Not your type.” He observed. She sent him a warning glare. “Don’t like him.”

“Shut up, Felix.” Felix grinned.

“Ridicu –” Sarah snapped.

“I saved you too, you ungrateful lout!” He laughed.

“That was a pretty neat trick.” He acceded. “Guess you’re good for something, after all.” Sarah scowled. Part of her knew Felix was only baiting her, but unfortunately he was far more gifted at being aggravating than she was at holding her peace.

“Why does Pan keep you around?” She grumbled. She glanced at his irritatingly placid smile. “No, wait, don’t tell me – the reason is ‘for you to know’ or something like that.” Felix’s eyes widened as if in surprise.

“Look at that. She _can_ learn.” Sarah narrowed her eyes, and with a last growl, disappeared into fine green mist. If he was going to be so very himself, Felix could make his own way back to camp. And with a shake of his head, he did just that– laughing all the way.


	73. The Red-Haired Boy

Any laughter in camp ceased when Pan reappeared holding Xavier’s still form. Arthur didn’t see him at first, until Loto nudged him and he turned casually to see what the fuss was about. The next moment he was running, bolting across camp and shoving aside anyone slow enough to stay in his way. He stopped short beside Pan, crestfallen from worry. Pan spoke before he could ask.

“Felix says he’ll be fine.” His disinterested tone was almost enough to make Arthur’s blood boil – but he had more important things to worry about right now. “I trust I can leave him in your capable hands?” Arthur nodded, reaching out to take Pan’s redheaded burden. Xavier’s eyes flickered a moment as he did so, his head rolling slightly.

“Shh.” Arthur murmured, carrying him to their tent. “It’s alright, love.” It was slow-going between his desire to jostle his patient as little as possible, and Xavier’s much stockier build, but at last he ducked inside and lay Xavier carefully on his pallet. He pulled some of the furs from his own to put under his head and neck. He told himself that if Felix had said he’d be fine, there was nothing to worry about. That didn’t stop him from doing it anyway. He brushed a hand gently over Xavier’s forehead, smoothing away one of his wild red curls. “You’ll be fine, won’t you? It’ll take more than…” He hadn’t even asked what had happened. “Whatever it is. Nothing can keep you down for long.”

His boundless energy was one of the things Arthur loved most about him. He was always enthusiastic, never doing anything by halves. A much more cautious person himself, Arthur admired it – even if his exuberance did sometimes lead them into trouble. If it had gotten him into this kind of trouble, Arthur intended to have a strong word with him about restraint and caution. He let out a half laugh. Once Xavier was awake, that resolution would last all of a minute – they both knew Arthur couldn’t be stern with him for long, and Xavier would never listen to him even if he could.

No, Xavier couldn’t be any way but how he was. It was a good thing, too – when it wasn’t getting him into scrapes like these. If he didn’t dive headfirst into everything, Arthur might never have come to Neverland at all. And to miss out on that – he stroked his hair again. To miss out on that would have been the loss of a lifetime. He stretched himself out on his own pallet adjacent, keeping watch and reminiscing on the first time he’d seen the vibrant soul that lay so still now beside him.

~~~

Real men don’t cry. That’s what he had been told, with words and without, for as long as he could recall. Soldiers didn’t cry when they went to war (or so he thought), when they left their wives and families behind (or so he thought), when they marched to unforgiving certain death (or so he thought). So perhaps he was not a real man. Mabel certainly thought so, or he wouldn’t be crying now to begin with. He slapped his cheeks, trying to snap himself out of it. At 17, he was too old to be crying. He should be a man now, by rights. Mabel had wanted to make him one. That’s what she had said.

Mabel had always been a force to be reckoned with, even when they were truly kids. She’d been a spit fire, standing up to the older boys who’d mocked him for his quiet voice and gentle nature. “I like that you’re quiet.” She’d told him many a time, that day and after. “It lets me talk more and you never tell me to stop.” Before long the two had been inseparable, shy Arthur tagging along behind boisterous Mabel through all the innocent adventures of childhood.

Had he known when that innocence started to change? Could he point to where, in 12 years of friendship, she’d changed? Or maybe it was he who had changed. Somewhere, somehow, Mabel caught wise that he wasn’t who she wanted him to be. Who she needed him to be. It had started quietly enough. Quick comments here and there about the things he should or shouldn’t like and do. He shouldn’t stare so long at all the girls, she’d tell him with a playful slap across his arm, without regarding that he’d never stared at any girls at all. He’d make some wife a very happy one, she knew and gave a wink, though he’d begun to know he never would.

Today. Today 12 years of friendship burned away before his eyes as harsh words made harsher by the closeness of the one who bore them out stung in his ears, clawed at his skin, drove deep and wounding spikes into his heart. He was wrong, she’d told him. He should not be. He was an aberration, and because she loved him she had tried to fix him into what she knew he could be and he knew he never would be, and when he’d told her not to try, not to mould him with her hands or with her lips to something he was not, she had spat sick venom from her tongue made all the harsher from her own secret wants, her own plans for him and them and everything curdled by the inconvenient truth of who he was.

So, although at 17 he should by rights have been a man, a true man, Arthur was no man yet. And being no man, he cried.  He cried until the sun slipped away into the forests in the west and dark night slipped up like a comforting blanket to cover the small town in which he could never be at peace. Poor Arthur. Had he known what real men know, that real men cry very much and much more often than the world would have him believe, perhaps he might not have gone that night. But with parents feeling much as Mabel did, if they cared to feel at all, Arthur had no such real man to guide him on. As the first stars winked into the sky, he heard the music. The sweetly haunting notes of a pan pipe floated through the still night to his ears, and though his heart still lay in pieces on the floor, the music pushed his limbs to strength and drew him from his window.

He followed the music as though entranced, past the edge of town and to the forest. A mighty bonfire rose up before him, where boys in beastly masks lept wildly in animal joy, hooting and howling in the sweetness of freedom. A slight figure in a cloak stood nearby, an ornate hood drawn over their face. Slender hands held a pipe, and he could just make out delicate features blowing softly into the thin reeds of the instrument. One of the masked boys grabbed his hand and tried to pull him into the dance. Arthur stumbled, shocked, and shook his head. The boy ducked out of the circle, lifting his mask to reveal a grinning freckled face and eyes that glimmered with joyful mischief. He looked a little younger than Arthur, but his heart fluttered at the boy’s warm smile.

“It’s all going to be better now.” The boy said, and Arthur scrunched his face in confusion. How could this stranger know that things were bad for him? Was he dreaming? The boy winked as he slid his mask back over his face, turning back to the dance and dragging Arthur behind him. Arthur followed the bouncing red curls in a daze, soon finding himself hooting and hollering with the rest of the boys, forgetting for a time friends who were not friends, parents who did not love, and a home that was not a home. And when the music ceased, and the piper offered up the choice to leave his town forever, Arthur didn’t think twice. The red haired boy smiled at him from under his mask, and surprising himself, Arthur smiled back.

~~~

“Arthur?” A worried voice sounded from outside their tent. He sat up, shaking off his bittersweet memories, and turned his head to call,

“Come in!” A moment later, Sarah ducked through. Her eyes flickered about the tent at first, taking in what she imagined were somewhat cramped quarters for four boys. She picked her way carefully and at a nod, knelt beside him. “Felix said he’ll be alright.” Sarah could tell he didn’t quite believe it.

“I know.” He wasn’t the only one. “It was…” She trailed off. “Felix called it a banthear.” Arthur’s eyes grew wide. There were some nasty creatures in the jungle, but ordinarily they left the Lost Boys alone. He started at first when Sarah’s hand came to rest gently on his shoulder. Seeing him tense, she removed it. “Sorry,” She apologised quickly. “You looked like you needed –” She looked away. Arthur didn’t have the false bravado so many of the Lost Boys had, but she perhaps saying he looked as though he needed comforting would insult him none the less. Arthur put his hand on her shoulder in response.

“No, it’s…it’s fine. Thank you, Sarah.” She placed her hand over his own and squeezed it. In a moment they broke away, though he found he was glad to have her by him while they waited for his best friend to awaken. If he didn’t…Arthur wouldn’t think about it.

At long last, neither could say how long, Xavier stirred. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and both of them leaned instinctively towards him. When his brain followed his eyes, Xavier started. “The!” He tried to bolt upright, but Arthur stopped him. “Shh, love.” He murmured again. “Not so fast.” With a nod towards him, Sarah saw herself quietly out. Xavier was ok, and Arthur she thought might like some time alone.

Something in her stomach flipped as she thought over Arthur’s tender care and fervent vigil by Xavier’s side. Something about it unsettled her, and it took some time to puzzle out just why: she wasn’t certain she would ever find the same. If she hadn’t stepped in and Pan had been the one to be carried back unconscious to the camp, would that be her? She would worry, sure, but it was 10:1 that she’d be lecturing him the moment he opened his eyes.

And she didn’t think she could expect such behaviour from him. She _had_ been unconscious before, and the moment she’d opened her eyes he’d started baiting her. It might have been before his change of heart sprang up, but between his temper and his scheming it was hard to say where anything had started beyond that moment by her willow.

No, she reflected. She and Pan would never be like Arthur and Xavier. They were matched in a different way than her and Pan. She wasn’t sure if it was better, though it was healthier to be sure. Still, perhaps she might take something from Arthur’s angerless concern.

“Are you done playing nursemaid yet?” She turned towards that familiar sarcastic voice with a soft, warm smile. His look of affected boredness soon turned to confusion at her face. “What are you smiling about?” He asked suspiciously. He liked when she smiled, to be sure – but ordinarily his snark brought quite the opposite. Sarah laughed at his suspicion.

“Nothing at all.” The tone of her voice made him even more suspicious, and he gazed at her with narrowed eyes. She laughed again. “Never mind, Peter.” She returned her face to a more natural setting. No, she and Pan would never be like Arthur and Xavier. It simply wasn't in their nature. “Just a funny thought.”

He frowned, unhappy to be brushed aside. “Fine.” He assented, after another moment. “Don’t tell me.” His eyes turned serious now, and it was her turn to frown. He held out a hand, and she paused before taking it. “Come along now, Lost Girl. I think you and I are due for a little chat.”


	74. Chat

Sarah pulled her hand back quickly at his words. “What do you mean,” She asked suspiciously, “What sort of ‘chat’?”

“Come on, Sarah.” Pan needled. “Don’t tell me you still don’t trust me?” Sarah gave him a look which said that kisses were one thing, but trust was quite another.

“The last time you wanted ‘a little chat’ you almost pushed me off a cliff.” Pan rolled his eyes. Would she always be harping back on things he’d done before she mattered? Aside from that, he hadn’t gotten her anywhere _near_ the edge of the cliff – her temper had put a stop to that. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Peter.” Sarah admonished, bringing his attention back to the present. “Not when you looked so serious just a minute ago – what kind of chat, and is it going to end with me dangling over the side of a cliff again?”

“That was one time.” Pan bristled, irate. “And it was you who put yourself over the edge, not me.” Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand. “No cliffs.” He promised, serious once more. He proffered his hand again. With a warning look to inform him that he’d regret it if her trust was misplaced, she put her hand delicately in his. She closed her eyes, and they vanished.

When they reappeared, they were by the large waterfall at the top of Dead Man’s Peak. Sarah looked between the beautiful sight and Pan’s serious face with some confusion. The first time he’d brought her here he’d said he needed answers, though it occurred to her now she’d never found out what the questions were. Pan dropped her hand and strode towards the water. He knelt by the bank and stuck his hand out over the water.

Her confusion only grew as she watched a small spiral of water slowly make its way up towards his hand. Frowning, he beckoned towards her. Too confused to argue and starting to become a bit worried, she obliged. She knelt beside him, and he quickly caught her hand and stuck it out over the water with his own. “What are – ” The water had already twined around her hand in thick ropes, and was starting to make its way along her arm, when Pan all but threw her hand back to her side. That did it.

“Peter.” Her voice was stern. “What’s going on?” Beside her, his jaw clenched.

“That’s exactly what I’d like to find out.” Despite the heavy irritation with which he spoke, he sounded distracted – as though his mind were very far off. “This is _my_ island.” This did not seem addressed to her, though they were the only two there. He stuck his hand more forcefully out, and this time a great swell of water rose up to meet it.

“What are you doing?” Sarah demanded, quite fed up with his odd behaviour and cryptic responses. Her irritation was certainly not a cover for the beginnings of a creeping worry.

“Reminding the island who its master is.” Pan muttered. Seemingly satisfied for now, he drew back his hand. He moved from a crouch to sit fully on the bank, and after a moment Sarah did the same. Pan might be king of the island, but she didn’t think Neverland could ever truly have a master. She doubted too that it would take kindly to the insinuation that it might, but as the ground didn’t shake or split to swallow Pan up, perhaps she was wrong. When minutes passed of more silence and no explanation, her patience ran out. 

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” Pan looked at her sharply, almost as if he had forgotten she was there. “Because if not, I’m going back to camp.”

“I’m thinking.” He complained. Sarah was not to be placated.

“Think out loud, then. You said we needed to talk, so talk.” He frowned, opened his mouth, then thought better of what he was about to say and closed it again. Finally, he looked off to the side, grumbling,

“I should have been the one to stop the banthear.” Sarah stared. That was it? That was the reason he was acting so strangely, the reason he’d dragged them both up here? She might have laughed at whatever stupidly prideful bravado it was that made him feel that way, if she weren’t so very annoyed. Pan explained more seriously, “This is the second time in as many days the island’s listened to you instead of me. I have to admit it’s wearing on my nerves.”

This quieted her. Pan was, as he’d told her, territorial. He’d lost his temper on more than one occasion when he’d seen her connection to the island, and a part of her worried they might be building to another such display. She’d been planning to ask him about earlier – the odd tug she’d felt signaling danger, how he managed knowing where everyone on the island was without being overwhelmed – but she was starting to think she’d better not.

“You felt the island’s warning.” She nodded slowly. It would do no good to try and hide it, she’d told him when it happened that she had. “The monsters listen to you, the trees reshape themselves at your whim. Even the mermaids won’t hurt you, and they haven’t even any reason to be afraid of you!” The warning alarms began to sound in her head. She watched his eyes carefully, waiting for the cold sliding of shadows to appear. He watched her in return, his eyes for now almost thoughtful. “Just who are you, my little Lost Girl?”

She didn’t answer. For one thing she didn’t think he was expecting her to, and for another she wouldn’t know what to say even if he was. She was the Dreamer – but what that meant, she still couldn’t say. Neverland had told her several times that she’d remember, if she remembered who she was. But so far, those memories remained just as elusive as when she’d first stepped foot on the island. Even with all the changes she’d made and believing she’d done, she was still at a loss for what Neverland truly wanted of her.

“I think you know more than you’re telling me.” The thoughtful look turned calculating as Pan scanned her face. He reached out a hand to stroke the side of her face. “But you will tell me, won’t you Sarah?” There it was. There was the start of the shadows as he spun his words around to make her do what he wanted. She pulled back from him, and he frowned.

“Don’t do this, Peter.” She warned. “If you want to know something, ask me outright. Don’t – ” He was watching her carefully, as a cat might a mouse. She hadn’t seen this look for some time, and in contrast to this morning it made her stomach turn. She grabbed his hand in earnest. “Don’t manipulate me. Show me _my_ Peter, the one I –” Her mouth clamped shut before dangerous words could slip out. 

Slowly, she watched the shadows siphon away. When he spoke again, his tone was lighter. “The one you what?” Sarah dropped his hand and looked away. “I’m asking you outright.” With his oozing charm, she was certain this boy would be the end of her. With a low laugh, Pan let the matter go – for now. “Then I’ll ask you another question, instead. Why does my island like you so much?” She didn’t miss the emphasis of his ownership.

“I don’t know.” She told him at last. It was more or less the truth. He gazed at her steadily, trying to determine if she was lying. “Peter…” She was hesitant, not sure if she should reveal any more than he already knew. _He promised he wouldn’t hurt me_ , she argued first. _And you believe that? Come on, remember who you’re talking about,_ came the reply. But he was changing, wasn’t he? _He literally_ just _tried to manipulate you._ He hadn’t threatened her, at least. _That’s not a point in his favour. No brownie points for basic human decency!_ “Does Neverland ever talk to you?” _You idiot_. Perhaps she was – but it was too late now.

Pan arched a brow. “Neverland? Talk? It’s an island, Sarah.” He laughed. “I think the Lost Boys have been playing tricks on you.” Either that, or…he frowned. “Come out.” He barked suddenly, and Sarah drew back in surprise. She looked nervously around her. Was it her imagination, or was it getting darker? No, it wasn’t her imagination. The shadows of the rocks seemed to thicken, and in another moment the spreading darkness congealed to form a towering figure with two spots of glowing light for eyes. Her own widened in recognition. It was the shadow that had brought her to Neverland in the first place.

She yelped as it swirled around her before coming to a halt in front of Pan, hovering in wait. “Is this who you’ve been talking to?” His irritation was obvious. Sarah shook her head slowly. “Well?” She opened her mouth to protest before she realised his second question wasn’t addressed to her. Low laughter thudded through the clearing, jarring their ears. No, this was definitely not the voice of Neverland.

“This Dreamer is not for me to speak to.” Its voice was grating, and Sarah fought hard against the urge to cover her ears against the sound. This shadow, whatever or whoever it was, knew at least what she was, and evidently that Pan was one too. Why hadn’t it spoken to her, then? Why not tell her instead of dropping her on the beach without a word?

“You brought her here, didn’t you?” Sarah felt something like hurt at the accusatory tone of Pan’s voice. Was he unhappy after all that she was here? She tried to brush the feeling away. _So what if he is? You haven’t let him that far into your heart already, have you?_ The move failed.

“She belongs here.” Came the grinding reply. “For now.” Her heart sank further.

“What do you mean?” She demanded, haltingly at first and then again with greater voracity, “What do you mean, ‘for now’?” She wouldn’t leave Neverland. She couldn’t! This was where she belonged, she knew. Hadn’t the island told her that it knew her? Didn’t it help her whenever she asked, let her shape it with her imagination and talk to her as an old friend? She belonged here, not just for now. Always. The thudding laughter came again.

“You’ll see.” Pan and Sarah locked eyes, his crackling with irritation and hers wide with fear and worry. “Or you won’t.” It turned its head slowly to look at Pan. “Let’s see if you make the right choice.” Pan shifted his gaze, glaring back at it fiercely. There was an odd quality to its voice that he had never heard before. Was that…amusement?

“What choice?” He demanded. The shadow only laughed again, the stony sound bouncing off the rock walls of the waterfall.

“Try to figure it out.” It suggested. “You always did like games.” With that it swirled away, melding back into the shadows of the rocks and leaving two unsettled people in its wake.

“I think it’s time you gave me some answers, Lost Gir – Sarah?” The irritation dropped from his voice as he looked back towards his companion. She was curled up defensively with her arms around her knees, her head just peeking out to stare fiercely out at the water. Carefully, as if approaching a wounded animal, he edged closer to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t react. “Lost Girl?” He murmured.

“I’m staying.” The words came out garbled, speaking as she did into her folded knees. Pan furrowed his brows, confused by her statement. She wasn’t getting off the island, they’d been over this. And she certainly wasn’t leaving now that she was, well, what she was. “I don’t care what any shadow says, I belong _here_.” She lifted her head to regard him with a ferocious gaze. “It’s _my_ island too, Peter, and I’m not leaving. So you’ll just have to get used to sharing it.”

Pan did not like to share. He never had, and he very much doubted he ever would. He was king on the island, and as king his control was absolute. Or at least, it had been – until Sarah. He would never do anything that would put his power, his connection to the island’s magic at risk. Perhaps that was what the Shadow had meant. If Sarah’s connection with the island grew too strong, would it overpower his own, enough even to sever it? He couldn’t let that happen.

But no – he was being foolish, he already knew what to do to secure his place as Neverland’s king. Sarah could never find out, of course. He doubted she would understand. But once he’d done what he needed to, he’d be more linked to the island than ever. He’d have his power, his youth, _and_ his Lost Girl. Everything he could possibly want, forever. Why choose, when he could have it all? He smiled.

“Of course you’re not leaving.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “Not when I’ve grown so attached to you.” Rather than softening her gaze, her eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing, Peter?” He furrowed his brows. “You only say things like that when you want something. What is it?” He chuckled, lowering his head to murmur in her ear,

“Maybe it’s you.” Her look softened. Maybe she _was_ being too suspicious of him. _Or maybe he’s still trying to get answers out of you._ If that were the case, he’d be disappointed. She had few if any to give.

“It’s not my fault Neverland likes me, you know.” Her tone was cautious, still wary of an explosion over the perceived threat to his territory.

Pan’s mouth quirked up in a lopsided smirk. He did not like to share – but perhaps, as the island’s king, it was only right he should have a queen. And if he was to have a queen, how much better to have one who was his equal in everything – including her influence on the island.

“Neverland’s not the only one.” His smooth, quiet voice was barely audible over the cascading water, even as close as he was to her. She eyed him watchfully.

“Careful, Peter.” Dry amusement crept in to her voice. “That almost sounded like a feeling.” He closed the narrow distance between them to kiss her again, pulling her from her defensive coil to lean forward against his strong chest. As he felt the last of her suspicions melt away, he smiled to himself. He’d been distracted for a time, but now he would renew his search. And when he succeeded – when, not if – he would have everything.


	75. One of Us

When they broke apart, Sarah smiled softly up at him. He was sure in that moment that whatever the Shadow said, he would never let his Lost Girl leave his side, not so long as there was any other alternative. He smiled down at her in return, and at this small gesture her face split wide into a grin.

“This kind of chat, I like.” His brow quirked. He was beginning to notice that kissing made her silly, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to think of it. At least this time she wasn’t giggling. “Well,” She added lightly, “Minus the prophecy of doom from your shadow friend and the nagging fear of you going nuclear over the island liking me more.” Pan made a face.

“New-clee what?” She laughed.

“Right, that’s much too new for you. It’s a – ” She paused in her explanation. Did he even know what an explosion was? Did they have gunpowder when he was from?  “Peter, just how long _have_ you been on this island?” He laughed softly, brushing her face.

“Time stands still here, remember?” Her look informed him she didn’t think much of his answer. With a sliding smile, he bent to her ear. “Centuries.” He whispered. A shiver ran down her spine – his breath tickled, and she still wasn’t used to his being so close. She wasn’t sure she ever would be, even if she were to be here for centuries as well. She struggled to regain her composure, to his great amusement.

“Well,” She managed at last, with only a little straining still in her voice, “At any rate. You _aren’t_ going to lose your temper over the island liking me again, are you?” She drew apart to regard him so seriously he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Like you said, Lost Girl – you can’t help if the island likes you.” She almost didn’t catch when he added under his breath, “Though if it knows what’s any good for it, it will remember it’s supposed to like me _more_.” She regarded him carefully a moment longer, but at last nodded.

“I’m glad we’ve settled that.” A sparkle began to dance at the corner of her eye, and Pan felt a foreign sense of foreboding. He soon saw why as her smile turned wry, and she said sweetly, “In that case you won’t mind if I go see about some improvements to the jungle.” He narrowed his eyes. The island liking her was one thing, but to rub his face in it was – he paused in his thought. Behind the sparkle, he could tell she was watching him closely.

“Are you testing me?” He demanded. She blinked, all innocence. “I keep the jungle the way it is for a reason, you know.” Sarah shrugged. She wouldn’t change things if they didn’t want to be changed. “Flower gardens aren’t defensible!” Pan insisted. He was unused to reasoning with people rather than ordering them, and was growing quite annoyed by how much slower the process was.

“Defensible from what?” He glanced off.

“Don’t worry about it.” If there was ever a sentence which would incite Sarah to worry, that was it. Previously she had felt idle curiosity for what mysterious threat her flower gardens might be putting Neverland in danger of. That curiosity had now ceased to be idle. Seeing that his words had provoked the opposite of their intended effect, Pan rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing that concerns you.” Sarah drew away from him, looking back through narrowed eyes.

“Is that so?” Now he’d done it. “We’ll see about that, Peter.”  He sighed in aggravation.

“Look, sometimes people stumble on Neverland who aren’t quite so…friendly, as you are.” Her brows furrowed. “Plenty of grown-ups would want to take the island’s magic for themselves, and I can’t let that happen.” Her expression relaxed as she turned over his words in her mind. It made sense, she supposed. Book Neverland had pirates, maybe the real Neverland did too. It made her less than friendly welcome to Neverland make more sense as well, though what threat they could possibly have thought she posed still evaded her.

“Alright.” Sarah said at last. “I’ll limit the flowerbeds.” Pan smiled, please to have convinced her to see things his way.

“I trust you can make it back to camp on your own?” She stared. “I need another word with my shadow…unless you’d like to come along?” Sarah shuddered and shook her head voraciously. If she never heard that bone-grinding voice again, it would be too soon. Peter smirked. He wouldn’t have offered if he’d thought there was a chance she’d say yes. He had delicate matters to discuss, ones he wasn’t keen on his Lost Girl overhearing. He ran a hand down her cheek. “I’ll see you in camp, Lost Girl.” The next moment, he was gone.

Alone at last, Sarah decided it was high time she spoke with the new trees by the pine forest. With a wave goodbye to the waterfall, she disappeared and opened her eyes on the lovely strip of fairytale forest she’d imagined just yesterday. The coloured mists swirled up around her as if to greet her, and she felt a quiet peace roll over her. Who cared what any Shadow said? The trees knew she belonged here, at least. She twined her way among them, running her hands gently over the bark. “Are you happy?” She felt a hum in response. It wasn’t as clear as when she spoke to her willow, but she understood none the less. “Good.” A soft blue light winked in and out in front of her face, and she laughed. She reached up a hand, and the light twirled around her fingers.

By the time she was done enjoying her transformations, darkness was just starting to fall. It had been an eventful day even as Neverland days went, and she was looking forward to dinner and sleep. She blew a kiss to the new strip of forest – there were too many to say goodbye individually – and ported herself back home.

Home was full of surprises, and the first thing she saw when she returned to camp was a small knife hurtling through the air towards her. With a yelp she reappeared behind it, all the peace of the forest wiped out as her heart pounded from her brush with danger. She heard cheers nearby for her evasion, and turned to see a small crowd of Lost Boys. Kasim stood at their front, twirling a small throwing knife. When she stared at him, eyes widened, he grinned.

“Not sure if your timing is awful or perfect,” He called over to her. She let out her held breath in a shaky sigh, then laughed nervously.

“From now on I’m only teleporting to my tent!” She called back. In a camp where weapons and fists went flying on a daily basis, it was probably a sensible precaution to take. Kasim jerked his head back, indicating she should join them.

“Got to admit,” He told her as she approached, “It’s hard to get used to another teleporter around here.” Sarah laughed. Dissolving rock walls he could handle, but not teleportation? She was about to comment on just that when a solid, fast-moving object collided with her legs and back. She staggered forwards from the impact, almost into Kasim had he not quickly shuffled backwards to make room for her. She looked down in shock to see two arms wrapped around her in a tight hug. She glanced up at Kasim, who seemed as confused as she was and possibly even more uncomfortable. Sarah cleared her throat.

“You saved Alec.” It took her a minute to puzzle out that this is what the small body hugging her had said, as the syllables were so muffled. She patted on the arms reaching around her awkwardly, and they quickly disengaged. The small body soon proved to be Cody, who was staring up at her with a fierce devotion almost rivalling the fierceness of his prior hatred. “You saved Alec.” He repeated. Sarah nodded slowly, uncertain how to process what was happening. Kasim was staring at her with eyebrows raised, and she shrugged uncomfortably.

“I don’t believe it.” Cody might have forgotten his grudge against Sarah, but Zack had not. He stood amidst Kasim’s group with his arms crossed, glaring at both her and the young Lost Boy who had once been his ally in disliking her. He scowled as he accused, “You think just because you’re using your dumb girl tricks on Pan, the rest of us are going to fall for it too? There’s no way _you_ stopped a banthear.” Kasim whistled, stepping back to clear the space between the two. He’d seen Sarah’s temper in action, and didn’t much feel like getting in the way of it. Watching it, however, was sure to be entertaining.

If he was hoping for a fight, he was disappointed. Instead of exploding, Sarah only rolled her eyes. “And exactly what “girl tricks” do you think your leader is falling for?” She asked dryly. Zack’s eyes narrowed even further.

“I think you know.” He said menacingly. “Felix told me once that girls have all kind of tricks to make boys do stupid things. That’s why they aren’t allowed on the island.” He let a long hiss of air out of his nose before adding, “And they steal your boots, too.” Both her eyebrows shot upwards, and she tried to stifle a laugh.

“Boots?” She asked, struggling to keep a straight face. She couldn’t take the image from her mind of Pan awaking one morning to find she’d stolen his boots, now that Zack had placed it there, and the scene was so ridiculous she lost the fight to keep from laughing.

“Laugh all you want,” Zack seethed. “ _I_ know there’s no way you stopped the banthear. You can’t even keep a hostage!” He turned his attention to her smaller companion, who was returning the glare out of his fresh-born loyalty to the Lost Girl. “I thought you were smarter than this. Just because she tricked you once doesn’t mean you have to let her do it again.” Cody balled up his small fists and charged forward – or he would have, if Sarah hadn’t pulled him back by the shoulder.

“I’ve got this one, Cody. Thanks all the same.” Cody opened his mouth to protest, but she steered him firmly away. With one last glare back at Zack, he took the hint and departed. Sarah turned her attention back to her detractor with an aggravated sigh. “How do you want to settle this, Zack?” He scoffed.

“You aren’t one of us.” He asserted. “You don’t get to settle things like a Lost Boy.” Sarah glanced towards Kasim, who shrugged. She wasn’t a Lost Boy, technically. He wouldn’t say she wasn’t one of them, either – but she wasn’t a Lost Boy. She squared her jaw.

“I belong here just as much as any of you.” And she was tired of being told otherwise. The boy next to Zack began to edge away, following Kasim’s lead in anticipation of a Lost Girl blowup. Zack noticed, and was not amused. “Are you scared, Koya?” He sneered. Koya scowled in answer.

“She can melt rocks. With her _mind_.” He shook his head disgustedly. “I’m not scared, but I’m not stupid either. You’re sure acting it though, what’s Pan going to say if he finds out you think he’s being tricked?” Zack pushed him.

“Who are you calling stupid?” Koya pushed back, and soon pushing devolved into out and out fighting. Sarah watched with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and vague concern. Zack’s gripe with her appeared forgotten in the face of a more direct insult. She supposed she might be thankful, but she knew she’d have to deal with his dislike eventually. And when she did…She winced as Zack landed a punch across Koya’s face, knocking his head back. Koya retaliated by trapping Zack’s fist beneath him in a rather clever manoeuvre she couldn’t help but admire. She was starting to wonder if she should step in when Kasim’s calm voice prevented her.

“You want to practice throwing?” She glanced with more than surprise between Kasim and the two boys fighting on the ground. Was he just going to leave them there? He laughed at her expression. “They’ll be at it for a while. Zack’s got the height advantage, but Koya’s older in every sense of the word. Come on.” He twirled a small knife gracefully around his fingers. “At least you know no one will teleport in front of it.” She glanced back at the two fighters one last time, somewhat uneasy with leaving a fight that had started partially over her, but in the end agreed. Lost Boys would be Lost Boys, and Lost Boys loved to fight.

She held out a hand, and Kasim placed the knife on her palm with a grin. “What’s my target?” It was almost a pointless question – she was unlikely to hit what she aimed at. Kasim knew it, too, and his grin stretched wider as he gestured at a large tree across the camp.

“See if you can hit that instead of the tent ropes this time.” Sarah rolled her eyes – at least she hadn’t severed any of them – but stepped forward to take aim at the tree. She hefted the knife and drew a steadying breath. She aimed carefully, trying to track the expected path of the projectile through the air. She drew it back and threw, sending the knife hurtling towards the tree. For a brief moment she thought she had done it – until it bounced the side of the tree and went clattering uselessly to the ground.

Kasim laughed. Prodigiously. “The Lost Girl, everyone: She can teleport, she can melt rocks, but she still can’t throw a knife to save her life.” She was tempted to scowl at first, but Kasim’s ribbing was so good natured she couldn’t help but laugh as well. She _couldn’t_ throw a knife to save her life, after all. He proffered another knife to her, but this time she declined.

“Maybe I should just accept this as my version of Loto’s swordwork.” Kasim snickered. “Hey, I just don’t want to have to stitch any tents.” Embroidery was one thing, but stitching canvas was a nightmare. It took forever, it hurt her fingers, and it never looked good when she was done.

“If giving up’s what you want.” She heard the challenge in his voice. Perhaps she really was one of them, for though she knew he was baiting her and that giving up was a perfectly acceptable thing to do, something in her couldn’t back down from the challenge. She plucked the next knife from his hand, setting her jaw and squaring her shoulders. It was _so_ on.


	76. Settled

In the end it was Rasheed who settled things with Zack. At the close of his fight with Koya, when the older boy insisted they go back to their thrown weapons, Zack had stormed off in search of a more sympathetic ear. He wouldn’t practice with the so-called Lost Girl if she were the last person in camp. So while Koya went to heckle her, and maybe show her up if given the chance, Zack went looking for the one person he knew would still agree with him: Lucian.

Lucian was keeping more and more to himself these days, still wary of retaliation despite the continued peace since Sarah’s return to camp. He was sitting with Martín, who had little opinion of Sarah one way or the other. If the younger boy didn’t share his negative views on her, at the very least he didn’t have an abundance of good to say of her either, and was thus more pleasant company than an increasing portion of the camp.

Zack found them on the opposite end of camp, knotting vines into sturdy nets. Martín waved in greeting, but Lucian only looked up, silent. “ _She_ doesn’t belong here.” Was Zack’s opening line. Lucian eyed him cautiously, then jerked his head to the side. Zack took the invitation and sat behind him. “Even Cody’s falling all over her now, it’s disgusting. Claims she stopped the banthear that was attacking him earlier.” He picked up one end of the net and started knotting. He pulled so aggressively that Martín was worried he might break the net before it was finished.

“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing,” Zack continued, still seething, “That he’d need a girl to help him or that he’d lie about it to get on her good side.” Martín glanced towards Lucian, whose face revealed nothing. He’d been quieter ever since the second game of capture the flag, though he wouldn’t say why. “And then Koya was telling some crazy story about how she’s dangerous or something because she can move some rocks around,”

“She _is_ dangerous.” Zack furrowed up his face as Lucian spoke at last. Lucian’s face remained even, his progress steady as he calmly tied each vine. He glanced discreetly to the sides as if he expected the terrifying she-demon he’d seen in the jungle to materialise behind him. “She is much more dangerous than she looks.” 

“You beat her in a stick fight, Lucian.” Zack peered heavily at the one person in camp he had expected to agree with him. “A _stick_ fight. She didn’t look so dangerous then.” Lucian inclined his head ever so slightly.

“She has magic.” Zack opened his mouth – he knew she could teleport, but so what? That didn’t make her dangerous, especially not if she was stupidly teleporting in front of projectile weapons all the time. Lucian didn’t let him interrupt. “Fire magic.” He didn’t feel the need to elaborate – it had been humiliating enough that Sarah had seen him afraid for his life, he didn’t need the Lost Boys to know it too.

Zack frowned, cursing as he pulled one of the vines so tightly that it snapped. Grabbing another, he complained, “She’s still not a Lost Boy. She shouldn’t be here just because she’s using her stupid girl tricks on Pan.” Privately, Lucian agreed. After that day in the forest he had almost found a grudging respect for her. Anyone who could attack Pan and Felix and live to tell the tale was a force to be reckoned with. Now that he knew why Pan had spared her life, he felt differently. She was still dangerous, yes, but she wasn’t dangerous as a Lost Boy was dangerous. She didn’t have skill with weapons or fighting or stealth. She had magic. Only Pan could have magic – on anyone else, it was cheating.

But though privately he agreed with Zack, he was wary of saying anything aloud which might sound as though it disapproved of their leader’s actions. Instead, he muttered to his friend, “Pan knows his business best.” Zack narrowed his eyes, about to argue, when Lucian rested a firm hand on his shoulder. “Pan is our leader.” He said carefully, looking the boy directly in the eye. “And if we know what’s good for us, we follow our leader.”

Martín by this point was growing increasingly uncomfortable. For one thing, the revelation that there was a second, not-Pan magic user in camp who might one day decide to set them all aflame was unsettling. For another, the idea that Pan could be tricked was not only foreign, it bordered on disloyal. “Rasheed!” He called out in relief to the young boy, passing back into camp from some business in the jungle. Rasheed turned his head to see who was calling him, and though suspicious of a group which included Lucian, came over to join them.

“You are pulling the net too tightly.” He remarked to Zack, who scowled. Rasheed had not thought much of Sarah’s usefulness or abilities, that much was well-known, but he spent a great deal of time with her even so. Zack couldn’t be sure whose side he was on. “Did you need something, Martín?”

Martín panicked – he hadn’t thought through calling Rasheed over, he had just wanted a distraction from the uncomfortable direction of Lucian and Zack’s conversation. Before he could answer, Lucian spoke up. His voice was cool and sliding, and reminded Rasheed of a serpent. He was something like Pan in that respect, when the boy king was trying to wheedle information from someone. “We were hoping you could tell us what happened in the jungle earlier.”

“Xavier, Cody, Alec and I were attacked by a banthear.” He spoke with no emotion of the proceedings, as frightening as they had been at the time. “Sarah ordered it to stop attacking us – and it did.” A long silence followed.

“I don’t believe it.” Zack spat at last. Rasheed shrugged.

“Believe as you will. That is what happened.” Zack was not to be put off. He narrowed his eyes, accusing,

“I can’t believe you of all people would fall for her tricks, Rasheed.” Rasheed sniffed disdainfully. There was nothing about Sarah that he might want in the manner Zack was suggesting. “You said yourself she was useless. She’s not one of us, and she never will be.” Rasheed watched him carefully, judging the roots of his intransigence.

“She is not one of us.” He agreed at last, eyes solemn. “She is one of Pan.” Zack scowled. He knew Pan was taken in by her, that was exactly the problem. Seeing his continued ignorance, Rasheed leveled him with his unsettlingly steady gaze. “She ordered the banthear to stop, and it did. She teleports as Pan does, and her anger is almost as strange.” Now Zack began to see what Rasheed was telling him – but such an idea was impossible. No one was like Pan, not even Felix who had been here the longest.

“Believe what your eyes and ears tell you, Zack.” Rasheed suggested. “She will be here a long time, and I do not think it is wise to let your injured pride prevent you from the truth.” He glanced over to Lucian, who stared back unflinchingly, before returning his attention to who he saw as the more malleable target.

“What do you mean, “my injured pride”?” Zack demanded. He was growing defensive. “My pride isn’t going to be injured by any dumb girl.” Rasheed arched an eyebrow.

“She took you as a hostage in capture the flag.” Zack broke another rope. He’d gotten free and then _she_ had run away from _him_. “You would not be angry if a Lost Boy had done it.” Zack stuck out his jaw, defiant. Growing tired of such irrational behaviour, Rasheed stood. “She is useless at many things, but having her as an enemy would be unwise. When you are thinking again, you will see that.”

Though Zack still scowled as Rasheed walked away, the seeds of reconciliation had been sown. It was true, much as it was with Cody, that the greatest injury she had done to him was to his pride. If he could see her as an equal, however foreign such a thing felt, perhaps it wouldn’t gall him any longer that she had bested him, however temporarily. And of course, Lucian was right – he ought to know better than to question Pan aloud. The three sat in silence now, tying their knots in varied contemplations.

Rasheed paused as he passed the group throwing knives to watch as Sarah sent a knife into the very edge of the tree. “Your aim appears to be worsening.” She had managed to hit closer, before her disappearance. Perhaps the time away had lessened her hand-eye coordination. Sarah turned with a scowl to glare at the young boy.

“And how are your archery targets looking these days? Besides, it’s getting harder to see by the minute.” Rasheed smiled, and her scowl disappeared in surprise. She looked quickly behind herself on either side, looking for the source of such a rare expression.

“It is getting dark.” Rasheed acknowledged. “I will claim our firepit before someone else does. Perhaps it will lure Xavier at last from our tent.” He walked out without another word. Despite his insults and his even tone of speaking, Sarah couldn’t help but feel touched at his use of “our” in describing the firepit. Of course, it was the same “our” he used in describing the tent she definitely had no part in – but she felt included, all the same. With a fresh rush of determination, she hefted another knife in the air.

Kasim stopped her before she could throw. “It _is_ getting dark.” He plucked the knife from her hand over protests, tucking it away in a roll of pocketed fabric. “I don’t want them getting lost, and besides – with your aim in the darkness, you might mistake a boy for a tree!” At this insult she put her fists up as if to challenge him, but he only pushed her away towards the firepits. “Fight me when you have a chance!” He whooped.

“Just you wait, Kasim!” She called back, grinning. “I may not be able to fight you yet, but you’d better keep an eye on your boots!”


	77. Wonderful

Xavier was understandably more subdued that evening. Rasheed proved correct that his favourite fireplace lured him and Arthur at last from the tent, and Sarah was pleased to see the red-head not considerably worse for wear. There was no sign of Nibs, and when she asked after him no one could say where he might be. Arthur suggested he was probably with other friends tonight, but she caught the look that passed between him and Rasheed. She marked this as unusual, but didn’t press the issue for now – they’d all had enough excitement for one day, and she didn’t think anyone was in the mood for questions.

Just as Arthur was beginning a story, a shadow fell over their fire. Rasheed watched carefully as Zack stood close by, still partway scowling, and stared at Sarah. She soon became aware of his gaze. Swallowing a large bite of dinner, she stared back for some time until at last the boy broke eye contact with a huff. “If you want to do this,” Sarah requested dryly, “Could it wait until after dinner?” Privately, she hoped it could wait until tomorrow – she was much too tired to be fighting any Lost Boys right now, but she knew to say so out loud might lose her face when she was trying to gain Zack’s respect.

“There’s nothing to do.” He grumbled. Her eyebrows raised. “Look, maybe you belong in camp after all.” He peered at her carefully, watching the brief register of surprise in her expression. “I don’t want you fireballing me or anything, so…I guess you’re ok.” A half-laugh escaped Sarah’s throat.

“Sure you’re not just falling for my tricks, Zack?” She needled. He turned abruptly, marching resolutely from their fire. As she watched him go, Sarah sighed. She probably shouldn’t have egged him when he was starting to come around to her, but she just couldn’t help herself. It was then that she noticed Arthur’s stare. She met him with a questioning gaze.

“Fireball?” Oh. Right. Of course. Her eyes shuttered off to the side. She hadn’t exactly thought she could keep this aspect of her a secret forever, but…she had at least hoped she might.

“I’d really prefer not to talk about it. It…wasn’t my proudest moment.” She squirmed under Rasheed’s penetrating gaze, and even Xavier was staring at her now with concern. She sighed. “Let’s just say that if he ever lets me, I owe Lucian an apology.” This was enough for Xavier, who resumed his meal with gusto.

 “He probably had it coming.” The words came out muffled and accompanied by crumbs. A wry half-smile curled over her face.

“Not this far he didn’t.” She clenched and unclenched her fists. “But thank you, Xavier.” Feeling the mood of the circle descending, she decided it was high time for a change of subject. She put on  a cheerful face. “How’s that head of yours? I didn’t think there was anything on this earth solid enough to knock you out.” Xavier winced.

“You’ve never been on the business end of a banthear.” He smiled sheepishly at her. “Thanks, by the way.” Sarah blinked. They were friends, but she could tell his pride was injured all the same. That wouldn’t do.

“Well, you did save me from Lucian.” She reminded him. She looked slyly to the side, remembering what he’d told her after coming to her rescue. “I’d say don’t mention it, but –”

“Ok, ok.” Xavier agreed, laughing. “We’re even, I’ll stop telling the story.” Arthur leaned down and kissed him lightly on the head. It was good to see his high spirits returning.

She’d still seen no sign of Pan when she retired to her tent that evening. She hadn’t seen Felix either, but it didn’t occur to her to worry. She was far more used to worrying when they were present, and her instincts had yet to recalibrate her new, more positive relationship. Instead, filled with good food and the laughter of friends, she drifted blissfully off to a worryless, dreamless sleep.

Wherever he had been the night before, Pan was back to greet her bright and early outside her tent the next morning. Few of the boys were awake yet, the morning mists still curling in low hollows of the camp. Sarah poked her head out to the sight of Pan leaning back against the tree nearest her tent, eyes closed. A mischievous mood overtook her then, and she crept as quietly as she could around the tree to stand just behind him. Just as she was about to blow in his ear – for once _he_ could be surprised – he spoke up.

“Sarah, you’re nowhere near quiet enough to sneak up on me.” He opened his eyes, rolling on his shoulder to face her. Her eyes widened in surprise, a bit embarrassed to have been caught in such an act. “Don’t feel bad, Lost Girl. No one is.” He pushed himself off the tree with a snicker. “You _are_ worse than most though – hey.” She had turned, rolling her eyes, away from such an insult. Pan caught her by the arm. “Forget the Lost Boys for a morning,” He suggested. His eyes were sparkling with excitement, a hard enticement to resist. “I want to show you something.”

Sarah eyed him cautiously. His excitement seemed benign, but she still had trouble quieting the voice that insisted he was never happy about anything good. “What do you want to show me?” His eyes flashed.

“Everything.” Her stomach flipped over, once then twice for good measure. What girl would not melt, to have the world offered up as a sight made solely for her enjoyment? Whoever such a girl might be, Sarah was not her. He caught her tight in a secure embrace, and she reflected that this was for the best – her knees were feeling a bit wobbly at the moment. “Ready?” He breathed. That was odd. He never asked before transporting them somewhere. The reason soon became clear, her eyes flying wide as she felt their feet lift off from the ground.

At once all that was melted froze. Pan could feel her struggling to get her feet back down to the earth, and he frowned. He lowered them back down, and felt an unpleasant twinge as she hastily shook herself free of his arms. It wasn’t irritation, oddly enough, but it wasn’t a good feeling either. He couldn’t quite say what it was, but he knew he didn’t like it. “Do we have to fly?” Sarah asked nervously. Pan raised an eyebrow.

“Surely by now you know I won’t drop you?” She stared at him long and hard, chewing her lip as she warred with herself. On the one hand, she hated heights. On the other, her favourite dreams had always been of flying. Of course, in a dream she knew she was safe. In Pan’s arms? Statistically, the odds were not in her favour. Then again, she did want to see the island – in that brief moment of joy before he’d dropped her, it had been true bliss to look out over it in all its glory. Still, she didn’t think she was quite ready to trust him. _What if I didn’t have to?_ She wasn’t sure what she was considering was even possible. But it was worth a shot.

“Will you teach me?” She blurted at last. “To fly.” His eyebrows raised.

“Teach you?” For a moment she feared he would start laughing – the tone of his voice certainly implied he might. But then, his look turned calculating. “Yes…yes, I suppose I might.” The next moment found them by the largest tree Sarah had yet seen on the island. It was covered over in huge vines as thick as her arms, one of which began snaking towards her until Pan looked at it sharply. Her brows furrowed with concern as she looked between the tree and the boy. Pan shrugged. “You have your tree, I have mine.”

He flew up into its branches, coming down a moment later with a pink flower about the size of her hand. Its petals wove tight together at the base like a bromeliad, loosening around the crest into separate oblong petals. He shook it over her, and she sneezed as sparkling dust fell around her. “What is,” She sneezed again. “What is that?”

“Pixie dust.” At this, her face broke wide into a grin. She knew what came next. “Now,”

“Think of a wonderful thought.” She finished for him. He furrowed his brow. How did she know that? Sarah closed her eyes, trying to summon up a thought wonderful enough to fly. But after a moment, she opened them again to peer at him curiously. “What do you think of?” Pan blinked.

“What?”

“To fly. What’s your wonderful thought?” He realised he hadn’t thought about it in quite some time. He was so practiced by now that when he wanted to fly, he just did. It wasn’t an effort any more than walking. He couldn’t say that to Sarah however, not when she was staring at him so hopefully it made his stomach turn.

“Freedom,” He admitted at last. “Nothing holding me back, no one telling me who to be, no rules to keep me from acting as I please.” Sarah tilted her head. It was odd, she thought, that someone who valued his own freedom so highly should keep such a tight rein on that of others. Still, she could understand the draw. She had come to Neverland herself, after all, in no small part for the appeal of youthful freedom. A small smile formed on her lips. “Enough about my thoughts.” Pan ordered firmly. The smile deepened. “I know how to fly, so start thinking of your own.”

Trying to mask her spreading grin – she rather liked when he became flustered – she closed her eyes. What would be wonderful enough to fly? She thought of soft pillows. Of warm food, of the laughter of friends – her feet stayed on the ground. _Come one, Sarah._ What made her really, truly happy? She thought of the first time she’d spoken to Neverland, really spoken, when the island had sent up twining vines around her hand and truly claimed her as its own. She felt a rush of air.

“Sarah!” She opened her eyes and immediately panicked to find herself high above the ground, almost breaching the canopy of the jungle. She flailed her arms uselessly – and then plummeted. _Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, think happy I am so going to die!_ Strong arms caught her halfway to the ground. She opened one eye timidly to Pan’s grinning face. “Quite a start, Lost Girl.” She let out a long, shuddery breath as he set her back on the ground. “But I think your landing needs some work.”


	78. Spill

The next days passed such that Sarah would almost call them idyllic. Her mornings she spent with Pan, perfecting her flying and seeing all the most wonderful sights Neverland had to offer. She was still nervous of the height, and even more so of falling, but even these feelings waned as the days went on. Pan had taken to holding her by the hand as they travelled up and over the island, a gesture which served the double purpose of steadying her still wobbly balance and steering, and giving her a different kind of anxiety to focus on.

Each thing he showed her seemed more beautiful and magical than the last, though had she gone back to the same sight twice she suspected she’d say it was more beautiful even again. They saw mermaids splashing into iridescent mists as the sea spray reflected off their tails, a strange circle of rocks at the very top of Dead Man’s Peak that glowed in colours she had never seen but in her dreams, a seam of silvery threads spun through the base of a cliff she suspected she had hung off once before. He brought her early one morning to see a young banthear coming out of its den, a quarter of the size of the beast she’d tamed in the jungle. At each sight Sarah could hardly contain herself from laughing with joy. Kisses flowed like water between them so long as they were alone, and even the least observant Lost Boys noticed that Pan was, for once, in a Very Good Mood. 

To make things better, her afternoons and evenings were spent with the Lost Boys. Pan told her he had things to attend to on the island, and as the days turned over she found that slowly, unbelievably, she was starting to trust that those things had nothing to do with her and might not even be unpleasant. In fact, she was starting to trust him in general. The needling voices in the back of her mind put up what resistance they could. But against mermaids and silver and a pronounced lack of his more frightening qualities, who could hold out for long? 

Xavier regained his energy before long, and once he had they resumed her lessons in fighting. He claimed she was getting better every day, but she could still see Loto laughing whenever he happened to catch the two of them at it. He tried to be more discreet after she reminded him that she’d take him in swords any time he wanted to try her, but subtle was very few of the Lost Boys’ strong suits. She still saw him laughing anyway.

She tried to pick up more of the Lost Boys’ skills as well, talking Rasheed into showing her how he managed a staff so much larger than him with such ease. He had sniffed and remarked that he thought her too clumsy for lessons to do much good, but even so he agreed to try. Teo had taken a great deal more convincing, but had eventually agreed to show her how to shoot a bow and arrow if she would just stop pestering him about it the rest of the day. When it came to throwing weapons, she still couldn’t throw a knife at a target to save her life – though at least now she hit the tree more often than not. 

The younger boys, Cody and Alec, had evidently developed a fierce loyalty to her and undertook to show her some of Neverland’s wonders of their own. They showed her where the best berry bush was to be found, and led her into a hidden cave covered up with thick brambles. She could barely squeeze through the space, being far larger than the two young boys, but once inside they made her swear solemnly never to reveal the secret place to anyone else, unless Pan ordered her to, because Pan was Frightening. 

She visited her willow tree plenty as well, whenever she needed a respite from the noise and energy of camp. She always tried to imagine something new while there, though she was beginning to find that believing things too large or grand tired her out, and sometimes even made her woozy. For that reason she was glad that no serious threats awaited her in camp. Lucian continued to keep his distance, and by and large any problems the boys might have had with her over her revelation seemed to fade as the days passed. That Pan was much more patient as of late, and evidently by her doing, went far in soothing any ruffled feathers. Even Zack seemed slowly to be warming up to her, going so far as to tell her she hadn’t done too horribly, he guessed, in one of her fights against Xavier. Though he dropped barbs and occasionally a bit of helpful advice when he was around, Felix was often gone from the camp. She supposed he was off helping Pan with whatever it was they did to keep the island running smoothly, and since his insults and his advice were difficult to tell apart in any case, she couldn't say she was too put out by his absence. 

The one puzzle in her days was Nibs. He seemed to be avoiding her, always hurrying off on some task for Pan or some adventure with another boy when she came near. He never sounded angry the few times she pried out a word or two, but she noticed he started to eat his meals elsewhere than their fire at night. When she asked Arthur, eventually, if she’d done something wrong, he only shrugged. Xavier scrunched his face up the way he did when he was bursting with a secret, and had suddenly remembered some taunt he had to deliver to Loto, right then, and excused himself. She couldn’t make heads or tails of it. 

One day she’d finally had enough. She was beginning to miss his simple, straightforward remarks at their fire, not to mention his friendly bickering with Xavier. So when she and Pan parted ways that afternoon, she kept her eyes peeled for the spiky-haired boy. As soon as she caught sight of him, she dropped the stance Rasheed was trying to show her, intent on rushing over to speak with Nibs. Rasheed let her go without a word, watching carefully to see if his suspicions about Nibs were correct.

“Nibs!” Nibs turned from his companions to face her, and for a moment she could have sworn she saw panic on his face. It lasted only a moment before he plastered a neutral smile over his face.

“Oh, Sarah. Just headed back out of camp. I’ll see you later!” She sprinted to close the distance between them, catching him before he could run off again. He froze, looking down at her hand on his arm. He opened his mouth to protest, but she barreled on with her questions before he could.

“Alright Nibs, the jig is up.” His eyes flew wide. “You’re avoiding me, don’t deny it. What I don’t know is why – did I do something? Are you mad at me? I thought we were supposed to just fight this stuff out.” Even if she generally lost the fights, she had to admit she enjoyed the much simpler conflict resolution on the island. She’d take wrestling in the dirt over passive-aggression any day. Nibs shook his arm loose of her grasp. She crossed her arms, stepping in front of him to try and block his path. “Look, I can’t doing anything about it if you don’t tell me.”

Nibs shrugged. “I’ve been busy.” As friendly as he kept his tone, she thought he sounded nervous.

“Don’t give me that.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “You’re avoiding me. You don’t even eat with us anymore, and with you gone Xavier keeps trying to start fights with me and Rasheed.” He laughed, but the sound was not quite happy.

“What, you saying you miss me?” Sarah sighed aggressively.

“Of course I do, you doofus. We’re _friends_.” Next to Nibs, Kasim snorted. Sarah didn’t miss the glare Nibs sent in response. She almost felt like sending one of her own, rounding on her sometime instructor. “You got something to say, Kasim?” He held his hands up with raised brows.

“This isn’t my business.” He clapped Nibs on the shoulder, receiving a scowl in return. “Good luck – you’ll need it.” Before she could ask which of them he was speaking to, he had gone. Deon followed after him, and now she and Nibs were standing alone. She folded her arms in front of her, leveling him with a steady gaze.

“Come on, Nibs. Spill. What did I do?” It was Nibs’ turn to sigh, though in truth it sounded halfway like a groan.

“Look, Sarah. I –” He looked to the side. “I can’t tell you, ok?” He dropped his voice. “Not where he might hear.” Sarah scrunched her brow. It took her a moment to work out who “he” referred to – and she was even more confused once she had. All the Lost Boys were loyal to Pan, sometimes too much in her opinion – what could Nibs possibly have to hide from him? A sick feeling crawled over her then. What if she was wrong to trust that Pan’s afternoon exploits were benign? Maybe he was up to something after all, maybe even something that involved her – and maybe Nibs knew what it was. Her gaze became determined.

“Do you trust me?” She pitched her voice low, anxious now of being overheard. Nibs’ eyebrows shot up.

“What?” Sarah rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Uh, sure. Fine. I guess.” That was good enough for her. Laying a hand lightly on his arm, they disappeared from camp. Nibs looked around in abject shock when they rematerialised at the base of a large willow tree. He’d never travelled by teleportation before, and the feeling was odd to say the least. “Why did you,” Sarah waived him off.

“This tree is my territory. It doesn’t much care for Pan, so he can’t come up here. Let me just get you clearance.” Nibs nodded in slow confusion as Sarah rested her head against the trunk of the tree. She was murmuring something to it, he couldn’t make out what. The leaves rustled all around in response. Whatever they said must have been good, as a smile split her face and she pressed a joyous kiss against the rough bark. His stomach twisted, and he felt his face heat up. He tried to think of Pan’s anger to kill the evidence before she turned around.

Rather than turning, she swung herself into the branches and motioned for him to follow after. “You’re good, as long as you don’t cut their bark." Talking to trees was weird, right? Definitely, definitely not an attractive habit. Internally shaking his head at himself, he climbed carefully up after her. The branches began to rustle, and he saw now that so long as they spoke quietly, no one would be able to hear them over the sound. It was somewhat unnerving, if he was honest. But not as unnerving as Sarah staring determinedly back at him on a branch across. “Talk.” He groaned again.

“I.” He knotted his hands. “You.” He couldn’t talk and look at her, that was asking too much. “You need to be careful about Pan.” After a moment, Sarah snorted. He brought his eyes sharply back up to her. “I’m serious, Sarah. I was here when he used to bring girls to the island. He plays with them, uses them up, and spits them back out. It’s – it’s not right.” He understood the intention, but he wished she hadn’t put a hand on his shoulder just then.

“Thank you, Nibs.” She sounded amused. Why did she sound amused? What he was saying wasn’t funny. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me. But…” She sighed, shaking her head and leaning her head back to stare up through leafy branches. “I know he’s not exactly…the best-behaved, but I do know what I’m getting into.” Her tone turned dry. “Believe me, I know.” It felt incredibly odd to actually be defending him, and to a Lost Boy no less. “But if things turn sour, well.” Her hand moved off his shoulder to grip the willow branches tightly. “I’ve got ways to look after myself.”

Nibs was not so sure. Sarah was frankly not very good at fighting, and Pan was absolutely unbeatable. Her gaze turned back to him, sharper this time. “Are you telling me this because you know something? Something he’s up to?” His confusion gave her an answer before his words did.

“No, I – no. I mean, he’s always planning something, but he rarely tells us what it is.” Her look turned thoughtful. Pan had been exceptionally pleasant these past few days – but since he was still teasing her plenty as well, she didn’t think he was breaking out his acting skills again. Nibs didn’t like how pleasant her expression was – she ought to look more concerned after what he’d told her. “Sarah, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Nibs.” She almost sounded sad. “You don’t know what _I’m_ capable of.” It was true, she had tried to stab Pan once. She’d been truly terrifying that day in camp, though the event had long since been crowded from his mind. “Look, you’re risking Pan’s anger to give me a warning, so I think it’s only fair I be honest with you. Though,” She looked off. “I’m worried you might think less of me once you know. I’ll understand if you do, but at least you won’t be worried about me anymore.”

“I’d never think less of you.” His vehemence was her first clue that perhaps a warning wasn’t Nibs’ only secret. She nodded stiffly.

“I…” She ran a hand over her hair. “I almost killed Lucian.” Nibs laughed. Her voice hardened. “I did, Nibs. Teleportation isn’t the only magic I can use.” His laughter fell away. “I can use fireballs too – if I’m very, very angry. That second game of capture the flag, Lucian caught up with me in the jungle. He had a sword, and he said he was going to show me that I didn’t belong here.”

“That was self-defense.” Nibs interjected. He remembered making a bet with Felix if Sarah would notice Lucian tailing her – he hadn’t expected the boy would do anything quite so drastic, however. Maybe he needed to have a word with him – and maybe a word over blades. Sarah shook her head.

“At first, sure. But once he had dropped his weapon in surprise? Once he was scrambling backwards on the ground and looking up at me like he could see the reaper standing at my shoulder? He had already surrendered, Nibs.” She nodded grimly as the shock registered on his face. “What I did was _monstrous_. Who knows what I would have done if Felix hadn’t interrupted me.”

“Did you – did you try to fight Felix?” One side of her mouth twisted upwards.

“I did.” The look of shock turned to one of admiration, and though that wasn’t her intended effect she couldn’t help but smile. “Fortunately he’s got a mean punch, even when he’s tied up.”

“He punched you?” Sarah laughed.

“Repeatedly. In the face. Only way to keep me distracted long enough to stop the fire.” She shook her head. “Look, that’s not the point.” Nibs could think of no story involving fighting with Felix where fighting with Felix was not the point of the story. He was almost as unbeatable as Pan. “The point is, Nibs, I _can_ hold my own if I need to. I don’t want to – I definitely don’t like thinking about that part of me – but I can.” Nibs nodded uncertainly. “Does my almost killing one of your friends _really_ not bother you? Not even a little?” Nibs shrugged.

“He did almost kill you first. Fair is fair. And,” He shut his mouth. Sarah tilted her head, but no end to the sentence came forth.

“So,” She asked carefully. She felt as though all was not resolved. “Are we good? You’re not going to avoid me anymore?” Nibs looked off.

“I told you I’ve been busy, so,” Sarah cut him off.

“What else is it, Nibs?” She demanded. Remembering they were supposed to be having a secret conversation, she drew a deep breath and lowered her voice. “Is it the fire? I’ll understand if it is, honest. I just wish you’d tell me so I’m not fussed with worrying about it all the time.” Nibs fidgeted on the branch. Did she have to stare at him like that? It was almost as bad as when Pan did it, or Felix.

“I – Pan is the jealous type.” Sarah looked away, and back again.

“What does that have to do with anything? I spend time with the Lost Boys all the time, and Pan doesn’t seem to give anyone trouble over it.” Her eyes narrowed. “He _hasn’t_ been giving anyone trouble over it, has he? Because if he has,” Nibs rushed to his leader’s defense.

“No, no – he hasn’t, or at least he hasn’t that I know of. And probably, I would know.” The level gaze returned, waiting for an answer he really, really did not want to give. “Arthur thinks I’m jealous,” He admitted at last. Her eyes shot wide. “And I thought that was ridiculous, but you’re just so, so…” While Sarah calmly panicked, he searched for the right word. “You fought Felix!” Lost Boys had unusual criteria for what was attractive, she thought, but she smiled even so. The shock of the initial revelation was wearing off. “Look, I know you’re with Pan, I’m not trying to get in the way of that.” He frowned. “I mean, I am I guess – but not for me. I’d never do that. I’m just worried about – I guess I shouldn’t,”

“Nibs.” Pan might be upset to know she used her soft, comforting voice with people other than him. But fortunately for the both of them, Pan was quite a ways away. Nibs quieted. “Thank you. Really. I’m sorry I pressed you, I understand why you’ve been avoiding me now. It’s got to hurt.” Nibs scowled.

“I didn’t say _that_.”

“You didn’t have to. Look, I –” She glanced to the side. “I’m a mess, Nibs. In more ways than one. Trust me when I say that I may be the only girl on the island, but you do _not_ want in on this.” The look on his face told her he didn’t care for her phrasing, and she smiled. Nibs had an old-fashioned kind of honour about him, one she suspected came more from his character than his time of origin. She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You all probably don’t even remember what girls look like. Trust me, the next girl that steps foot on the island you won’t think twice about me.” Nibs rolled his eyes. Her efforts at comforting him were succeeding only at annoying him – though he supposed in effect, the two came out to the same thing.

“Sarah, girls don’t come to the island unless Pan brings them. Closest we ever came to that was when Alec showed up to Pan’s fire in a dress and pigtails, but turns out his parents just really wanted a daughter. That pipe Pan used to find us? Boys are the only ones who can hear it. And now that he uses the shadow, it only goes after boys.” Sarah tilted her head, taking in his words. “Why are you looking at me like that? Sarah?” A small smile was playing at the corner of her mouth, and there was a bright spark in her eye that made him nervous. Sarah was forming an Idea.

“Girls don’t belong on Neverland.” Nibs looked around. They were the only two here, but she didn’t seem to be talking to him. “We’ll just see about that.” With a firm nod – she’d decided something, he couldn’t say what – she looked back to him. “Look, it’s not fair that you have to stay away all the time – why don’t I spend some nights around other fires for a while?” Nibs shook his head.

“No, I – Sarah, I’ll be fine.” He scratched at his head. “Now that you know, it feels…better? I don’t have to keep it a secret, so,” Sarah smiled. She knew exactly what he meant. His voice turned urgent. “But you can’t tell Pan.” Sarah held up her hands.

“I won’t, swear on whatever you all swear on here.” She regarded him carefully. “But if he does give you any trouble…” She nodded again. “He’ll very much regret it.” Nibs shook his head with a snort. He didn’t quite believe Sarah could really stand against Pan, but the sentiment was nice all the same. “Now climb down so I can say goodbye, and then I’ll port us back to camp – for a fearsome band of warriors, the lot of you gossip like school girls, and we've already been gone a while.”

“We do not!” Sarah raised her brow at his umbrage. “We do not,” He muttered again, climbing down carefully from the branches. Sarah wrapped her arm around the upper trunk, murmuring her thanks to her beloved willow before carefully climbing down after him. She held out a hand for him so the two could return to camp. Nibs hesitated.

“It’s not my real name.” Sarah furrowed her brow. “Nibs.” She remembered now. She lowered her hand, curious if he would share more than that with her. The Lost Boys as a whole, she’d noticed, were cagey about their lives before the island – though none of them, from what she could gather, had been very pleasant. “I used to be Nobuhisa – but I hate the name, hate the people who gave it to me, hate the people who called me by it.” He wasn’t looking at her to see the sympathetic gaze. Her instinct wanted to hug him, but under the circumstances that seemed in poor taste. “Nibs suits me better.”

She bit her tongue to keep from asking more questions. She wanted to know why he’d told her, who had named him, why he hated them so much – but none of that felt an appropriate response to his trust. Instead, she simply held out her hand again. “I’d say it does. Ready to go home Nibs?” He took her hand with a nod, and soon the branches of the willow were left playing in fine, trailing green smoke.

 


	79. Peace Offering

No one said anything when Nibs rejoined their fire that evening, though Sarah could see the looks that passed between him and the others. With a round of silent nods that they all pretended were subtle, they resumed their more standard routine of going over their individual adventures for the day. She smiled as Nibs interrupted Xavier's story and a scuffle broke out. It was good to have him back, not least because she could now eat her own dinner in relative peace. Knowing what she knew now, Sarah glossed over the things she’d seen with Pan that morning. Nibs had said he was fine, but that didn’t mean she had to rub it in his face. When she at last retired to her tent for the evening, it was with a feeling of blissful content. With the puzzle of Nibs solved, her mind was free to think over the idea she’d contrived today.

She had survived on Neverland just fine so far, whatever Pan or Felix or the Lost Boys had thrown at her. And now that they were warming up to her, maybe they wouldn’t make it quite so hard for the next girl. Sarah was determined that there be a next girl. Boys didn’t have the monopoly on feeling alone and unloved, after all, and she thought the island might benefit from a little diversity. And of course, with more than one girl on the island it would be a lot easier for Nibs to get over her. She’d ask Pan about it tomorrow, she decided. With that happy thought, she settled into her pallet for a deep, dreamless sleep.

She got up quickly the next morning, ready for another blissful day of exploring with Pan and adventuring with the Lost Boys. She ate a small, quick breakfast in her tent and ported over to the pond for a quick bath before returning to greet her guide. She was a bit nervous about her idea now that the sun was overhead and the comforting blanket of night was folded back and tucked away until the evening shook it out again. Never the less, she wanted to share it with him. She was certain she could bring him around.

“Good morning, Lost Girl.” His tone of voice was her first clue that something was different today. The last few days he’d greeted her softly, as though they were slipping off to some secret only the two of them knew about. Today, his voice crackled with energy – and more concerningly, determination. Her second clue appeared shortly after. Felix, lurking like an overgrown shadow behind his master, was a face she rarely saw in the mornings these days. His presence now gave her the unique bad feeling of a mystery unsolved. Pan soon obliged with the answer. “I’m afraid I can’t show you around the island today – but luckily for us, Felix has agreed to take my place.” Sarah snorted. That was a laugh.

“Felix.” She sobered quickly as she realised Pan wasn’t joking. “You can’t be serious, Peter.” The corner of Felix’s mouth twitched upwards as she stared.

“Maybe I’ve missed the pleasure of your company.” Sarah rolled her eyes all the way into a glare. Like hell he did. She appealed to Pan,

“And the reason I can’t get one of the Lost Boys to take your place is…?”

“The Lost Boys will be quite busy this morning, I’m afraid.” She broke her glaring contest with Felix – the stupid giant was barely even blinking anyhow – to stare suspiciously at Pan. He was acting oddly; Or rather, he wasn’t acting oddly at all – he was acting like himself. His old self. Sarah crossed her arms.

“And why can’t I spend the morning on my own? I’ll remind you both, in case you’ve forgotten, that I am more than capable of taking care of myself for a couple of hours. Or days. Or even weeks.” Felix glanced towards his leader.

“Like I said, Lost Girl,” He drawled. “I’ve missed you. Been a while since the two of us talked.” He smiled threateningly. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings, would you?” Sarah’s eyes flickered back and forth several times between the top Lost Boys. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew she didn’t like it.

“You hate talking.” Felix shrugged. “And you hate me.” He glanced to the side. “And the feeling’s mutual.” The smile broke to a grin.

“What if I told you I’ll answer any question you want?” His amusement was palpable. “Consider it a peace offering.” Sarah’s jaw dropped. Felix never answered any question. And he wasn’t exactly prone to peace offerings, either. With considerable effort, she slammed her curiosity down in favour of her rising suspicions.

“Alright, now I _know_ something’s going on. What is it?” Pan rolled his eyes.

“Honestly Sarah, you’re so mistrusting.” He clapped Felix jovially on the shoulder. “Maybe I’m just tired of my right hand and my Lost Girl being at each other’s throats – I thought a little time together might do you some good.” She grudgingly assented as he left Felix to wrap an arm around her waist, murmuring in her ear, “Unless you’re just upset because you’ll miss me.” She glared up at him. How stupid did he think she was? Maybe it was for the best no other girls were on the island. She’d hate to bring them just to throw them to the wolves.

“You’re up to something, Peter.” He raised a brow. “Tell me what it is, or I’ll find out myself.” Pan smiled.

“That’s my clever Lost Girl.” His clever Lost Girl growled. She didn’t like the feelings her return of mistrust engendered, and she certainly didn’t like his condescension. He tsked. “You’ll find out soon enough.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “If I tell you now, it will ruin the surprise.” Her expression softened, though the suspicious voice in the back of her mind roared at her not to let it. _Hush,_ she ordered it. To Pan, she asked carefully,

“What kind of surprise?” Pan smiled.

“A good one.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek before breathing, “I promise.”

It was hard to argue with a fluttering in her heart like that. Felix coughed, and her face grew hot as she remembered she and Pan weren’t as alone as she liked them to be for kisses of any variety. Pan smirked as he released her from his arm. “I’ll see you tonight, Lost Girl. Felix.” His second in command nodded. He knew what to do. With that, Pan strode away, leaving Felix and the Lost Girl alone.

Sarah eyed the taller boy carefully. “Surprise or no surprise, I’m still watching you.”

“Watch away.” He turned away, club resting lazily over his shoulders. “But walk while you do it, we’ve got places to be.” Shaking her head, Sarah followed him into the jungle.

“I’m holding you to that peace offering.”

“Come on, Lost Girl,” Felix scoffed. “You’re smarter than that. Don’t you know a lie when you hear one?” Her mood turned sulky. She knew it was too good to be true.

“What happened to “lying is like cheating”?” She accused. Felix laughed, but didn’t answer. “Fine.” She stopped walking. “If the bait is gone, maybe I’ll just march right back around to camp and see what this big secret Pan’s so keen on keeping is.” Felix turned to look at her. His expression said he thought her actions foolish and perhaps a bit amusing.

“I wouldn’t,” He proffered, “If I were you. You know how Pan gets when his plans are interrupted.” Sarah smiled sweetly.

“Well, since you’ve evidently been put in charge of keeping me distracted. It wouldn’t be me he’d be mad at, now would it?” Felix sighed, lifting his eyes skyward.

“Always want to do things the hard way, don’t you little bird?” She tilted her head.

“What’s so hard about a little honesty?” Felix blew out a long puff of breath.

“Don’t much feel like it. Much easier just to stick you back in your cage for a bit and have done with it.” The next moment she was behind him.

“You’re forgetting something, Felix.” Her voice was sing-song. Before he could turn to look, she was in front of him again. “This bird’s a lot harder to catch than it used to be.” After a moment, Felix chuckled.

“Suppose you are.” It was a struggle to keep her surprise from showing on her face. “Well,” He turned back around and continued down their path. “Alright then. Ask away, Lost Girl. We’ll see if I feel like answering.” By the time this fresh shock had worn off, she had to run several steps to catch up to him. A million questions hit her mind at once, and for a while she was silent as she tried to decide what to ask first, what she might be able to get away with, and what might drive him back to his ordinary tight-lipped silence.

She decided to start small. “Why did you tell Xavier Pan sleeps on a bed of skulls?" Though she couldn’t see it, Felix smirked ahead. He’d given her free reign for her incessant curiosity, and this was the question she asked first? Well, fair enough. If her prying was the only way to keep her occupied while Pan dealt with his business on the other side of the island, he had resolved to let her – but if she only asked questions like this, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Thought it would be funny.” Sarah stared at the back of his head. He snorted at the memory. “It was.”

“How long have you been in Neverland?”

“Lost track.”

"Why do you never give anyone a straight answer?"

"Don't feel like it."

 “Why are all the boys afraid of you?”

“I think you know that one yourself.” Sarah suppressed a growl. Hardly any of these were what she'd call real answers, though in this case she supposed he was right. She’d been terrified of him at first, and if she didn’t have her magic now she had to admit she’d probably treat him with a great deal more caution. She weighed her next question carefully.

“Why are you always trying to get under my skin?” Silence followed. Sarah sighed – well, she’d gotten one real answer before the well dried up at least. 

“Because you make it so easy.” Her ears perked up. Maybe the well wasn’t dry yet after all. Once she’d processed what he said, however, she bristled.

“What do you mean, I make it easy?” Felix laughed.

“Emotions on a hair-trigger.” He shook his head. “Pretty sure I could make you defensive just by looking at you.” As if to prove his point, he stopped walking and turned, gazing calmly down at her. Sarah stopped too, caught off-guard and feeling unfortunately that he was right – all of a sudden, she did feel defensive. She grit her teeth.

“Alright.” He was amused by her attempts to look unbothered. “In that case, why are you always helping me? Seems a lot of effort for someone you dislike.” She almost missed the raise of his eyebrows before his face returned to peaceful calm. He was tempted to tell her to think about it herself, but frankly he wasn’t sure he’d like the answers she might come up with. Instead, he shrugged.

“Never said I disliked you." Her brow furrowed. She was certain that he had - but now that she thought it over, it seemed he was right. Despite what she'd said about him, he'd never actually said he disliked her. Was it possible she'd misread their relationship? Did Felix actually consider her...a friend?

"Course, never said I liked you either." There it was. She shook her head as he turned back around, feeling more than a little foolish for entertaining such a ridiculous notion. "As for the help, well." He resumed their course. "Teach a man to fish, Pan won’t send you off to get them out of trouble later.” Typical. Well, she had an answer now at least. “Ought to point out, Lost Girl – curiosity killed the cat.”

His voice didn’t carry the ominous quality he typically used for threats, so she was relatively certain he was just messing with her. “I’ll take my chances.” Zack’s words floated back to her then, a vital roadblock to overcome if she ever meant her plans to come to fruition. “Why are there no other girls on the island?”

“You’d have to ask Pan.” Now her questions were starting to get more dangerous. Sarah, however, would not be put off.

“That’s not what Zack said.”

“Maybe you should ask Zack.” A hint of warning crept into his tone.

“Alright, fine.” For a while they walked in blissful silence, and Felix dared to hope the barrage of questions had ceased. “One more question.” He’d spoken too soon. “Who stole your boots?”


	80. Cavern

Felix glanced down. His boots were still on his feet, exactly where he’d left them. He turned over his shoulder to shoot the Lost Girl a questioning look. “Lucian crack you on the head again?” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“Zack told me you said girls aren’t allowed on the island because we’ll trick you into doing stupid things, and steal your boots.” Felix lifted his brows. Those words did seem familiar, though who knew how long ago he might have said them. “Much as I dislike you, I have a hard time imagining the girl who could trick _you_ into doing something stupid.”

 Sarah hopped up to walk next to him instead of behind. The jungle around them was beginning to thin, and it was easier now to walk two abreast without batting away a constant barrage of vines and branches. Felix turned his head to face front once more with a shake. He had a feeling her next question would be ridiculous. “So what was she like? Was she your mythical type? What did she make you do?”

Felix looked down at her. It was nice to be right. “You ever get tired of asking stupid questions?” Sarah sneered, but didn’t answer. He’d said “any question”, and she took his reluctance to answer as a sign that she had wriggled her way to something good. Her companion let slip an aggrieved sigh. “No one stole my boots, and there was no girl.” She peered up at him suspiciously. He yawned. “Nothing personal – just a general observation.” Sarah remained sceptical.

“The circumstances seem oddly specific for a general observation, Felix.” He shrugged.

“Saw it happen plenty. Women are boot-stealers, I’m sure girls are too.” He stopped abruptly. “Question time’s over, little bird. We’re here.”

Sarah looked around. Between her compass and her ability to teleport, she’d long since given up counting steps to learn the island. Part and parcel with that came a distinct lack of attention to her surroundings as she walked, with the result now that she had no idea where they’d walked to. The jungle was thinner here, though it seemed to thicken significantly just ahead of them. Yet as far as she could tell, it was just that: jungle. She shot Felix a questioning glance. Slowly, he pushed aside a curtain of leaves – she’d mistaken them for a large bush – to reveal a cave. What she’d taken as an extreme thickening of the jungle was in fact the start of a steep hill so covered in vegetation she could barely see any rock or soil at all.

Felix jerked his head to the side, telling her wordlessly to go in. She raised an eyebrow. “What’s in there?” He smiled balefully.

“Scared?” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“Just because none of _you_ think before you act,” She chose to ignore his derisive snort. Perhaps she was hot-headed in comparison to him. But in her opinion, so was an ice block. “ _Anyway_. I’m not going in until you tell me what’s inside.” She crossed her arms, saying primly, “For all I know it’s a magic cage that will keep me from teleporting out of it or something, and then I’ll be stuck there all day until you and Peter decide I can be let in on the secret and let back in to camp.” She blew out a puff of air. “No, thank you.”

Felix stared, uncertain whether he wanted to laugh, mock, or groan in frustration. Things were much easier when she didn’t have magic, and he could just threaten her into doing what Pan needed her to. Finally, he settled on mockery. “Quite the imagination you’ve got there, Lost Girl. You come up with that all on your own?” She growled.

“You’re the one who threatened to stick me back in a cage,” She accused. “Don’t act like it’s outside the realm of possibility.” Frankly, it wouldn’t surprise her if Pan _did_ have some kind of magic-blocking cage on the island. That he’d recognised the signs of magic in her suggested he’d seen it in others before, and she wouldn’t put it past him to want to be the only one with magic on the island. But he wouldn’t use such a thing on her, surely? Not when things had been going so well. _Are you so certain?_ She swallowed down her doubt. “Tell me why we’re here, or I’m going back to camp.”

The urge to knock her out and have done with it was rising. Her stubbornness could be amusing, but Felix wasn’t used to taking orders anymore. Not from anyone but Pan. And while the similarities between the two seemed to grow with every day, Sarah in the end was still Not Pan, and therefore not in charge of him. He narrowed his eyes at his obstinate charge. “It’s a surprise.” She glanced up in a sceptical glare.

“Then you go first.” With a sigh, Felix assented.

“If it will make you feel better.” He stepped through the vines into the enclosed space. “All clear, little bird.” His voice echoed back. “Nothing at all to be afraid of.” It didn’t feel like taking orders if he mocked her for it afterwards. As his eyes adjusted to the dim, Sarah poked her head through the vines. Irritation radiated from her features.

“I’m not _afraid_ , Felix, I’m suspicious. There’s a difference.” Felix smiled condescendingly. Seeing no immediate threats, Sarah stepped the rest of the way into the cave. Light filtered through the vines to dimly light the entryway where she and Felix stood, but that small light was swallowed by shadow as the cave went deeper into the side of the hill. She couldn’t tell how far back it went, even as her eyes adjusted. “And my suspicions are far from alleviating.”

Other than Felix, nothing appeared to be in the cave. Felix disappeared into the darkness, and a tick of fear rose up despite what she had told him. It settled when he came back into the light, holding an unlit torch. There must have been a pile of them she couldn’t see. “Care to do the honours?” Sarah scrunched her brow. “Light it, Lost Girl.”

Sarah frowned. She hadn’t tried to use fire since the unfortunate incident with Lucian. Other magic, sure – teleportation, belief – she’d even managed some phytokinesis that she was quite proud of, though she’d kept it to herself. But fire? “No.” Felix raised his eyebrows.

“Forgot how?” She scowled. “Going to be a long walk in the dark then.” The idea of walking into darkness with Felix was less than appealing. But then, losing control of herself and killing or injuring him was even less so. Felix turned from her, beginning the walk into shadow. He seemed explicitly unconcerned by the lack of light. _Or maybe he can see in the dark,_ she mused. _Do spiders have night vision?_ She shook her head.

“Wait.” Felix paused, turning ever so slightly back towards her. “Aren’t you worried?” He snorted.

“About the dark?” Sarah bit her lip.

“No, I mean – ugh, nevermind.” Felix turned back. _Make up your mind, Sarah. Do you want to know or don’t you?_ Decisions were hard. “You’re not worried I’ll lose control again?” This time Felix walked back to her, holding the torch in front of her for her to take. She gingerly wrapped a hand about the base.

“Told you before, Lost Girl – magic or no, you’re not beating me in a fight.”

“I might still do some damage,” She mumbled. “You’re not fireproof, last I checked.”

“I’ll take my chances. Are we walking in the dark?”

Sarah stared grimly at the torch in her hand. _You can do this_ , she told herself. _You’ve used tons of magic since then. Maybe you don’t even need the anger?_ Another voice offered a different argument. _Pan’s up to his old tricks again. He knows he can’t make you use magic, so he’s getting Felix to do it for him._ She didn’t want to believe that voice. The last few days with Pan had been nothing short of magical. It really seemed as though he cared, genuinely and maybe even deeply, for _her_ – and her willingness to admit that she might feel the same was growing.

“It always take this long?” Sarah snapped her eyes up to Felix. Though his expression was bored, she was starting to recognise the subtle signs of amusement in his eyes. He was enjoying himself. _Well I guess there’s fuel if I need it._ No. She wanted to do this, or at least try to, without using anger to fuel the magic. She turned her attention back to the torch. _Light_ , she ordered. Nothing happened. She closed her eyes, picturing the warm crackle on the end of the stick as flames licked and danced around the tarry head of the torch. Maybe she could just believe it into being?

When she opened her eyes, it was just as dark. She lifted a hand from the torch, trying to will the fiery crackle of energy into her fingertips. There! She managed a single spark. But no more.

“You know, the boys have been talking about what you and Pan get up to in that tent of his, all alo–” The torch roared to life. Felix took it with a sly smile, ignoring her glare. “What did I tell you? Emotions on a hair-trigger. Come on, Lost Girl.” Clenching her fists, Sarah followed after him down the dark passageway.

“That better not have been the truth.” She threatened. “We’re not ‘getting up to’ anything, and if any of the boys want to say otherwise I’m happy to disabuse them of that notion.” Felix snorted. It was almost endearing, but mostly hilarious, the way she thought she could beat any but the youngest Lost Boys in a fight. In truth, he’d heard a great deal less than he’d expected about Pan’s new arrangement with the Lost Girl. Then again, it was always possible the boys talked only when he was out of earshot. If what they were saying questioned Pan’s judgement at all, such a condition was almost positive.

The passage narrowed as they went further, and in places Felix had to stoop to avoid bumping his prodigious height against the cave ceiling. The way was clearer than she expected, with no spiderwebs or plant growth except along the ground. Someone came here frequently, though who she couldn’t begin to guess. When the passage eventually began to widen again, Felix paused. “Close your eyes.” He ordered. Sarah glanced at him suspiciously. “What’s the matter?” He grinned. “Don’t you trust me?” She barked a laugh. “Do it, Lost Girl.”

Sarah sighed. “Fine.” She let her eyelids fall, fearing very much that she’d regret this. At a nudge from Felix, she walked haltingly forward. “If you walk me off a cliff, Felix, I’m going to –” She bumped into something solid.

“Open.” The solid object proved to be his club, though she didn’t notice at first as her eyes were busy being dazzled by the gleaming lights before her. They were standing at the entrance of a cavern jam-packed with more crystals than she’d ever dreamed of seeing in her life. Some were as tall as she was, giant tabular slabs of green gypsum. Over the ground were dusted smaller crystals, in rainbows of colours which threw off the light of the torch in a shower of flecked sparkles. Sarah’s mouth opened wide in a shocked grin, her heart beating faster as she led her head around the cave, trying to take in every bit of the resplendent sight before her.

As the club blocking her motion fell away, she remembered who had brought her here. With a sobering of her expression from euphoria to puzzlement, she turned to her guide. “Felix?” Her voice was somewhat strained. “What are we doing here?” As the initial shock wore off – she didn’t think the beauty ever could, in its entirety – she began once more to worry. He wouldn’t have brought her out here just to show her something nice, would he? That didn’t seem like Felix at all.

For his part, Felix shrugged. “Pan thought you’d like it.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Pan had told him to keep her distracted for a while, without much regard as to how. He’d made a point to order Felix not to use his usual methods, as he didn’t want to hear that she’d been stuck in a cage or knocked out all day.

“Show her more of the island, or something.” He’d said as they planned for the day. “Just make sure she’s nowhere we’ll be.” With the chances that Pan and the others might be in camp, at the beach, or in the jungle, the caves had seemed his best bet. From the look on Sarah’s face, at least before her suspicion of him had taken over, he’d chosen well.   

“Is this where you always disappear to?” Felix lifted his brows. She was back to looking around in wonder, apparently mollified by the assurance that their agenda had come from Pan. He smiled to himself at that – it was amazing how quickly things could change. To Sarah, he shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

“It’s beautiful.” Beautiful felt too small a word for what she was seeing. She looked down at her feet, wanting to step further into the cave without crushing the drusy overgrowth. Felix rested his club against the passage wall and sat down. They had a while yet of time to kill, but something told him that for now, Sarah could entertain herself.

And entertain herself she did. Though hesitant of an audience at first, when Felix didn’t comment for some time on her doings, she let herself give way to the joy of exploring such a place. After some thought, she believed a floating walkway through the cave, and lost track of time investigating every face and facet of her glorious surroundings. Eventually, however, she grew hungry. She made her way back to the entrance of the cavern, sitting down across from Felix to lean against the opposite wall. With a wave of her hands, the walkway was no more. It was time for her belief to concentrate on lunch.

“Actually kind of liked that.” She looked up in surprise, both from the sentiment and the fact that Felix hadn’t said a word in quite some time. “Certainly better than what you did to those boulders.” Sarah’s eyebrows raised disdainfully.

“Disliked that, did you?” She sniffed. “Good.” Felix’s mouth twitched up in a jagged half grin. He’d suspected she’d grown the thorns over the base of Dead Man’s Peak just to spite him – it was nice to be right. “But, if you like it,” With another wave, the walkway was restored.

“Mighty kind of you.” Her eyes shunted off to the side.

“Yes, well. You didn’t stick me in a cage after all, and you haven’t insulted me out loud in over an hour.” She shrugged. “One good turn deserves another.” Felix smiled to himself as the two ate their lunches in silence. Sarah’s silence was somewhat more agitated than Felix’s, halfway because she was significantly less agitated than she expected to be in his presence, and that fact was agitating on its own. When she’d grown tired of the silence, she piped up cautiously, “So whose boots got stolen?”

Felix paused mid-bite to stare. “You still on about that?” She shrugged, trying to hide the depth of her curiosity. “The men I spent time with before Neverland.” Her ears perked up at that.

“Men? Not boys?” Felix levelled her with a steady gaze.

“Pretty sure I said question time was over.” Sarah returned to her lunch, only sulking a little. She shouldn’t have expected more of an answer, she knew – but in the dearth of insults, she had almost found herself hoping. Felix returned calmly to his own, pleased that for once she was taking the hint to stop prying. They had a ways yet to go before he could bring her back to camp. He glanced at the floating walkway freshly added to his cavern. Just maybe, if she didn’t get curious again, this wouldn’t be so bad.


	81. Fresh Meat

Sarah did get curious again. Several times in fact, as the hours stretched on as only Neverland hours could, she had cautiously tried again with questions he didn’t feel like answering. What finally made her stop was of all things, his carving. He’d taken it out to work on some time after lunch, while she was busy trying to figure out how she might get closer to the ceiling. She’d tried to fly once or twice, but with no pixie dust she hadn’t had much luck. His testing of the whistle he was making had surprised her, and brought her like a cloud of curious locusts to investigate.

“Is that a whistle?” Felix looked up.

“Sounds like it.” She sat in front of him then, watching silently (for once) as he worked on detailing the feathers on each wing. She started to ask him, once, where he’d learned to do it – but at a look of irritation, she had stopped. Even Felix had his limits, and as patient as he’d been so far she didn’t want to push it. As she watched the tiny details come to life in his steady hands, she felt the oddest desire bubble up within her. Strange as it was, she actually wanted to compliment Felix. Even odder, she had to bite down on her tongue to keep herself from asking if he’d show her how to do it.

She was saved from herself by a piercing hoot that echoed even back to the far reaches of their cavern. Sarah scrambled up quickly, brandishing the torch as she searched for the source of the noise. Felix, watching her antics with mild amusement, tucked his carving back away and pushed himself off the ground. Picking up his club, he took the torch from her and started walking away. “Pan’s calling.” He drawled. “Time to go home.”

Sarah didn’t follow immediately. She turned to take one last look at the glorious cavern, trying to store up its beauty in her memory. “Thank you, Neverland.” She whispered softly. A sonorous hum came from the crystals in response. At this she broke into a laugh, sparkling with joy from the blissful reverberations of a sound like fine-spun silver. She blew a kiss out over the cavern, and then ran to catch up with Felix.

When they returned to camp, the fires were roaring. The small ones were all lit tonight, but so was the large bonfire generally reserved for celebrations. Pan swooped in around her as they crested the border between camp and jungle, catching her hand and back as in a dancing posture. “Welcome back, Lost Girl!” He declared with a grin. Bending his head towards her ear, he murmured, “Miss me?” A shiver ran along her spine. She glanced up, nervous of their company, but her guide for the day was already walking away from them. She turned her attention slowly back to Pan.

“Do I get to be let in on the secret now?” Pan laughed.

“So impatient,” He teased. He spun them both once around the clearing, and even with curiosity gnawing away at her she couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that all you care about, Sarah? My secrets?” A wry smile crept over her face.

“Maybe,” She teased, then shrieked as he drove them straight up into the air. “Peter, what are you doing?” She meant for the question to come out as a demand, but between laughter it was hard to sound imperious.

“Look down, Lost Girl.” She did. The many firepits danced below them, crackling reds and oranges that slashed through the falling darkness. Around them, Lost Boys wrestled, talked, and laughed. Firelight glinted off Xavier’s wild red curls as he and Loto tumbled on the ground, cheered by Nibs and Deon. Alec and Cody were whispering to each other, heads bent together over some treasure they had discovered that day, while nearby Arthur talked calmly with Teo and Rasheed.

Warmth swelled in her heart as she looked out over her home, her friends all blissfully and innocently content. It had been such a wild ride to get here, but even with all she had gone through, it felt worth it. This was the Neverland she had always dreamed of, a place of true freedom and innocent adventures, with no one telling anyone what to do or who to be.

It wasn’t entirely that way, of course. To forget that the boy holding her also held the island in an iron grip was impossible. But now, in the falling light of dusk with hazy smoke filling the air, the demon felt far and the angel felt close. Looking out over the camp she could see Pan as the Lost Boys did, as the person who had taken them from something terrible (whatever that thing might be) to give them something wonderful. She looked back to him with a soft smile on her face to see that he was watching her.

The gleam of victory shone in his eyes. Ordinarily this would have worried her, set her to wondering what trap she had fallen for or what fresh tribulation he had in mind for her. But tonight, with her heart so full and the days prior having passed so pleasantly, only a quickly-dismissed fluttering of doubt skittered across the back of her mind. Trust is a terrible, powerful thing.  

“Like what you see?” She glanced down over the camp again.

“Ye– ” She paused, squinting. She hadn’t noticed before, but something was different between all the tents. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but the ground was no longer covered in hard-scrabble earth and jungle detritus. Rather, soft colours blanketed the ground in rainbows almost comically at odds with the rough atmosphere of the camp. Sarah frowned, not quite believing what she saw. “Are those _flowers_?” Pan kissed her in response.

When she opened her eyes, she felt giddy. She was glad Pan was there to anchor her in place, as she otherwise might have floated so high she brushed her head against the trees. She’d take his wordless answer as a “yes”. It didn’t explain what they were doing there, however. “But why?” Pan frowned.

“Don’t you like them?” Sarah laughed.

“I do, but I wouldn’t think you would. What happened to ‘Flower beds aren’t defensible’?” Her imitation of his accent was growing better by the day, a fact that irked him somewhat as she only ever used it to make light of him.

“Well perhaps,” A tinge of annoyance crept into his voice. “If they’re in camp you won’t be tempted to scatter them all over the jungle.” His sourness amused her. If her irritation was as amusing to him, she was almost starting to understand why he had such a penchant for infuriating behaviour. She tilted her head to the side.

“Maybe I will.” She said impishly. “Maybe I won’t.” His frown deepened to a scowl, and she laughed. “Thank you, Peter.” Though she meant it seriously, she couldn’t help the dry amusement edging at the corners of her voice. “I love them.” Discomfiture under someone else’s gaze was still a new feeling for Pan, a feature of Sarah’s he wasn’t sure if he disliked or was intoxicated by. “Really.” Pan cleared his throat.

“Right. Well. Good.” He soon covered his nerves with his more usual demeanour of authority. “Let’s get down and join the celebration then, shall we?” Sarah smiled.

“And just what are we celebrating?”

“Do we need a reason? Come on, Lost Girl,” He admonished, “Live a little.” Sarah snorted at that – she felt she’d done more living since coming to the island than she had in her entire life beforehand. Still, she was happy to join the air of revelry as the two flew down to alight once more on the solid ground. As they did, she tugged away from his grip. “And where do you think you’re going?” She cast a haughty look over her face, though the glimmer in her eye told him she was only playing.

“I’m going to look at my flowers, of course.” A half-smile tugged at her face as she glanced out over the Lost Boys. “I’ll join the rest of you wild heathens in a minute.”

“You’d better,” He called after her, but inside he was pleased. On the one hand, he was glad she liked them. On the other…well. The longer she was distracted, the better. He watched her face light with soft joy and fire’s glow as she knelt by the first flower bed she’d come to, running her hands carefully over the petals and bending low to take in their gentle fragrance. As alike as he had hoped them to be, he knew she would never understand what he needed to do. She hadn’t lived long enough to know that some things required sacrifice, and those sacrifices weren’t always pleasant. Still, they needed to be done.

Towards the edge of camp, as far away as could be from Sarah and her flower beds, the newest arrival was settling in nicely. Kasim and Koya had taken it upon themselves to show him just how fun being a Lost Boy could be, playing with all the fire and sharp objects any young person could ever desire and laughing as his earlier trials and confusions from the day gave way to a nascent sense of belonging. He’d been told to keep to the edges of camp for now, which he didn’t quite understand, but with the life the green-eyed boy who seemed to run the camp was offering him, he wasn’t going to complain.

Or at least, he wasn’t until he caught sight of the girl. It was hard not to notice her as she came away from the tents towards the large bonfire, where a circle of drums and dancers was starting to form. Fire flashed against a large metal pendant below her chest, and glinted off the metal busks of a pair of bracers around her forearms. The sight of her when he’d seen nothing but boys surprised him, and he found himself caught in a stare. “Hey.” He waved at Kasim, eyes still locked on Sarah, for his attention. “Who’s the chick? I thought you were the Lost _Boys_.” Koya, overhearing, grunted.

“So did we.” Kasim suppressed a snort of laughter.

“That’s just Sarah.”

“Not “just” anything,” Koya grumbled, “She talks back to Pan and she can melt rocks with her _mind_.” The new boy laughed raucously. Even from his short time on the island he could tell that no one here was willing to mess with their leader, even the ones that were bigger than him. No way would some weak little girl do it. And as for melting rocks, well. He wanted some of whatever Koya was smoking. Koya glared at him, not happy to be laughed at. “Yeah, well. You’ll see.”

“Better hope you don’t.” Kasim chimed in. “She’s got a nasty temper. Much better if you keep your distance.” Pan had tasked him with keeping the new boy away from Sarah for the night. Once the morning came, Pan would tell her that the boy had arrived overnight, and hopefully that would allay her suspicions over what they had really been up to today. Kasim couldn’t tell the boy out right to stay away from her, as he didn’t want the newcomer asking questions as to why, but he hoped the warning would keep him away from her. He could see from the look in the boy’s eyes that his hopes were in vain. “Just stay over here for tonight, fresh meat.” He clapped a hand on the new boy’s shoulder. “And trust me when I say there’s things on this island you just don't want to mess with.” He followed his leader's gaze, seated by the fireside, to the Lost Girl dancing around it. "And _that_ is definitely one of them."


	82. Think

Though the newcomer’s curiosity grew rather than lessened at Kasim’s vaguely threat-laced warning, the boys nonetheless managed to keep him out of the Lost Girl’s sight until they all retired to their tents. It wasn’t until the next morning that she saw him. She and Pan were eating breakfast in the camp, for once outside their tents. She knew that Felix had only said the boys were talking to get under her skin, but nonetheless she had decided that limiting the time they spent alone in tents could only be a good thing. So instead, the two were seated amiably on a log, munching away at their breakfast when Sarah caught sight of a new face. Her brows furrowed as she peered more closely. No, she didn’t recognise that face. She tugged on Pan’s hand. “Peter, who is that?”

Pan turned casually in the direction of her gaze. “Oh, right – you were asleep when he arrived.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. She’d gone to sleep about the same time as everyone else, or so she’d thought. “The Shadow dropped him off early this morning,” Pan continued. “I tried to wake you up but…” He smirked. “Did you know you snore?”

Sarah’s face twisted. “I do not.” She’d had enough sleepovers that by now she was sure someone would’ve told her. She eyed Pan suspiciously, not sure she believed his story. “If it was so early, how come you were awake?” Pan shrugged.

“I can always tell when someone new comes to the island.” He raised an eyebrow. “How do you think we found _you_ so quickly?” Sarah grimaced to remember her “welcome” to the island.

“Did you stick him in a cage, too?” She asked dryly. Pan laughed, running a hand down the side of her face.

“Oh no, Lost Girl. That welcome was just for you.” Sarah grunted. It hardly seemed fair that while she’d had to claw her way tooth and nail to a place here, this new boy would be welcomed without a shadow of suspicion.

“Why are boys welcomed and girls aren’t?” Pan snorted. There was more than one reason for that, but one reason was enough for her to know.

“Girls couldn’t make it on Neverland.”

“I did.” Pan waved his hand dismissively.

“You’re different.” Sarah raised an eyebrow, returning a dismissive look of her own.

“You haven’t known many girls,” She sniffed derisively, “Have you.” Pan rolled his eyes. How much longer had he been alive than her? They might look the same, but he’d been this age for centuries. However many girls counted as “many”, he had probably met them. He raised an eyebrow at his obstinate Lost Girl.

“There’ve been girls on the island before, you know. They couldn’t take it.” Sarah snorted.

“Well if you’re the one who picked them, whose fault is that?” Pan did not look impressed.

“What ever could you mean by that?” He asked dryly. It was clear he didn’t think much of her question. Her mouth twitched upwards.

“Why don’t you think about it?” Pan scowled.

“Are you _getting along_ with Felix now?” He demanded. She tilted her head to the side, saying nothing. His eyes skittered sideways as he grumbled, “I think I like it better when you hate each other.” Sarah smiled sweetly in response.

“You’re the one who made us spend the day together,” She reminded him. He raked a hand through his hair.

“If you’re going to sound like him, that will be the last time, I assure you.” One Felix was bad enough. Sarah’s look turned sharp.

“You’re telling me,” She asked in disbelief, “That all I had to do was pretend that I like Felix, and you wouldn’t have sent him to torment me all those times?” Pan’s eyebrow quirked.

“I didn’t send him to torment you,” His mouth twitched upwards in a smirk. “That was just a happy side effect.” She growled a warning. He noticed, but didn’t take it. Instead, he arched an eyebrow, eyes twinkling with mischief as he said, “You know, I almost might be jealous – he’s quite the gift for getting under your skin, hasn’t he?”

“Tread carefully, Peter.” Sarah warned. He grinned.

“But Sarah, with you two getting along so well now – maybe I should have you spend more time together after all? I’m sure Felix would be _delighted_.”

She launched herself towards him. He could have ported out of the way, and she was honestly expecting him to, but he did not. He let her tackle him from their log onto the ground, and watched with glee as comprehension dawned at the position she had manoeuvred herself in to. He smirked up at her, and a spark of adrenaline flashed through her system. “How may times do I have to tell you, Lost Girl?” He flipped their positions dextrously, leaning close to murmur in her ear, “Don’t start fights you can’t finish.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes. But then, to his surprise, she grinned. His hands bit dirt as she vanished from beneath him, forcing him closer to the ground as her weight reformed on top of him. She sat primly, legs crossed, on his back. “Looks finished to me – ouch!” She fell hard on the jungle floor as Pan reappeared behind her.

“Two can play at that game.” He murmured softly.

“Oh, you’re on.” What followed was enough teleportation to make any Lost Boy’s head spin, as even the long-time residents of the island who had grown used to Pan and Sarah’s bickering stopped what they were doing to watch their leader and the Lost Girl dart around the camp, first here, then there, each trying to get the upper hand on the other.

The new boy was the most surprised of all. He had seen Pan teleport yesterday, and had almost gotten over the shock. But now it seemed what he’d been told last night was true. The camp girl, Sarah, had powers too. Powers she evidently used to go up against her leader. They’d seemed thick as thieves last night, leaning against each other by the fire when the dancing had tired her out, and he’d been alarmed when they’d started fighting, physically, this morning.

Even with so little time on the island, he’d already seen the Lost Boys would fight over everything. Most of the time it didn’t even seem to be about anything, or at least not anything important. Still, when he’d seen her jump at the boy everyone was afraid of, a look of irritation on her face, he’d been surprised to say the least. This girl was interesting.

It was Nibs who caught him staring. “She’s something, isn’t she?” The boy looked over. He’d been afraid of Nibs the day before, but now he couldn’t see how. The boy had a much gentler aura about him when he wasn’t chasing him through the woods with a sharpened sword, and a certain thoughtfulness in his face that the newcomer thought looked easy to take in a fight. He’d been told Nibs was the best swordsman after Pan, but he wasn’t sure he believed it.

“She sure is.” The new boy agreed. “Are there more of her around?” Nibs laughed.

“No, Sarah’s one of a kind.” He gestured to the boy’s breakfast. “You almost finished with that? We can get started on your training.” The new boy’s eyes had drifted back to Pan and Sarah, or at least their general direction – it was hard to keep one focus with them teleporting. “Best not let him catch you staring, Devin.” Nibs’ discomfort was evident in his voice. “Pan’s the jealous type.”

Devin scoffed as he looked back at Nibs. “Oh _Pan_ is, is he? What, he own her or something?” Nibs frowned.

“No one owns Sarah,” He said firmly, though to be frank he wasn’t sure Pan would agree. It was true the dynamic between them seemed…different from the girls he’d brought before, but Nibs still didn’t trust Pan not to be using her for something. In all other matters, he’d trust Pan with his life. But with this? He turned his attention back to delivering his warning. “But let’s just say Pan’s very protective.”

The new boy watched Nibs very carefully as he delivered his warning. He caught on to something Nibs didn’t know he was saying, and his face stretched to a smug grin. “Find that out the hard way?” He looked from Sarah back to Nibs. “Since it’s obvious you’re into her.” Nibs’ eyebrows shot up.

“What?” He demanded. He quickly regained his composure. “No, it’s not like that – Sarah’s my friend.” Devin laughed. Nibs spoke more seriously. “Look, I’ve been on this island a long, long time. I know Pan.”

“Yeah, whatever man.” Devin brushed him off, smirking. “You gonna tell me you never tried to move in on that? Because if you won’t, I might. I like a challenge.” Nibs frowned.

“You’re treading on dangerous ground, Devin. Don’t mess with Pan.” Devin laughed, wholly unconcerned. It wasn’t Pan he was planning to mess with.

“He doesn’t own her, right?” He held his hands up. “I just want to give the chick some options. Nothing wrong with that, right?” Nibs’ eyes narrowed.

“Don’t mess with Sarah, either.”

“Oooh,” Devin mocked. “You _do_ want a piece of that.” He wasn’t expecting Nibs to knock him to the ground. Before he could scramble up, Nibs knelt to look him fiercely in the eye.

“Sarah’s one of us.” Nibs told him quietly. “We look after our own. You’re new here, Devin – so if you want us to look out for you,” Nibs hauled him back upright by the shoulder. “Knock it off. Now, grab your sword.” Devin stole a last glance to where Sarah and Pan now sat on the branch of a tree, laughing – evidently they’d finished their “fight”, before picking up a wooden sword and following Nibs from camp into the jungle. He’d be wary of the spiky-haired boy from now on – but he still had no intention of giving up.

Unaware of the undue attention, Sarah sat laughing with Pan in the high branches of the tree outside her tent. When she wasn’t fearing for her life, fighting with Pan was actually pretty fun. She might even say it was, what would he call it? Exhilarating. “Well, you did give up first, but I suppose I –” He stopped her taunting with a kiss. She grinned as he pulled away, then leaned against him, watching the business of camp below. She didn’t see the new boy anymore, and assumed one or another of the Lost Boys was taking him around to learn the island. That reminded her of her plan.

“Say, Peter,” She began cautiously. Pan was happily nuzzling his head against her shoulder, for all the world content. He made a sound of acknowledgement. “Could I convince you to bring more girls to the island?” The nuzzling ceased. He brought his head back up to eye level, regarding her with some amusement.

“I told you Lost Girl,” He said wryly, “Girls wouldn’t make it on Neverland.” He looked down at the camp. “Besides, they might distract my boys.”

“Is that what I am?” He could sense a brewing danger in her voice. “Do I distract you, Peter?” She definitely did. But he knew a trap when he heard one.

“They can’t keep up.” He said dismissively. Sarah scoffed.

“I’m still here.” She pointed out again. “And where I’m from Peter, I’m considered a wimp. Do you know what I can bench?” Pan furrowed his brows.

“Frankly, Lost Girl, I’m not even sure what that means.”

“Neither am I, Peter!” She said with exasperation. He could tell she thought she was proving her point, but if anything he was more confused than before. “But I know there are plenty of girls who do know what it means, and they’re like ten times stronger than I am. Besides,” She huffed, “Are you really telling me no girl, ever, is going to measure up to Cody? Or Alec? Because as fierce as they might be, they’re still only children.” Pan leaned back on his branch, appraising her with a calculating look.

“Maybe I’ll think about it, Lost Girl.” Sarah tilted her head, disbelieving. It wouldn’t be that easy. “Of course,” His look turned sly, glancing at her sidelong, “If there’s more girls on the island, won’t you get jealous? Who knows, I might fall for one of them.” Sarah laughed. Not a nervous laugh either, but a boisterous laugh that almost sent her backwards off the tree branch. Pan frowned. His wounded pride said this was backfiring quite badly.

“That’s funny, Peter.” He didn’t see how. Finally she calmed down, wiping a tear from her eye.  “Look, Peter, I’m not the jealous type. For one thing, I think we’ve been through too much to just let go of each other so easily. For another, well…” She glanced at him sidelong. “If you do find someone better, I’ll just have to do the same.” She grinned. “Maybe I’ll try Felix.” Pan barked a laugh.

“Good luck with _that_.” If she’d named anyone else, he might have gotten jealous. But Felix? There was one person he didn’t have to worry about. “Felix would never work out,” he murmured, his mood turning back to something soft. He brushed the side of her face with his thumb. “So I suppose you’ll just have to settle for me.”

“Hmm,” Sarah mused, as he turned her face to move in for a kiss. “Pity.” She smiled. “But I suppose you’ll have to do.” He chuckled softly as their lips met, alone in their moment as the Lost Boys all looked studiously away. They might not hear their conversation – but if they looked up, they could see them plain as day. When the two drew apart, Sarah smiled again. “So you’ll think about it?”

Pan raised an eyebrow, but he nodded. “You are rather convincing,” He acceded with a smirk. “But for now, my one and only Lost Girl,” He offered his hand, and taking it, the two departed camp to see the sights of Neverland. For now, at least, the island was at peace.


	83. Hot

Devin found his chance later that day. He’d run ragged all morning, first training at swords with Nibs, then at archery with Teo, and finally Lucian had started to show him around the jungle. His head was spinning with new information, his muscles sore from foreign activities, a far cry from any sport he’d ever played. But as he spotted Sarah for once on her own, he knew he couldn’t miss this chance.

After a quick glance around to be sure Nibs and Pan weren’t in the immediate area, he strolled casually over to where Sarah was sitting on a log, a look of intense concentration on her face. It looked as though she were trying to stab a block of wood with a small knife. This girl was weird. She was also the only girl he’d seen, however, and all the other boys seemed determined that he should stay far away from her. So, weird or not, he had every intention of getting as close as he possibly could.

“So I heard you can melt rocks with your mind.” Sarah jumped, swearing as her knife skittered off the chunk of wood in her hands and almost took a chunk of her finger with it. She’d been concentrating hard on trying to whittle small pieces off the wood like Felix did, without much success. She reflected that it was a good thing Xavier was out on some adventure in the jungle. If someone had tackled her instead of just spoken to her, one or both of them might have gotten stabbed. As it was, she looked up to see the newcomer standing above her. Floppy brown hair over a freckled face gave his looks an innocent quality. “You always this jumpy?”

Sarah snorted. “You’re the new boy, right?” She shook her head. “Give it a couple days, you’ll be jumpy too – never know when a red-haired semi-truck’s going to come barrelling into you.” The new boy laughed, and Sarah had a dawning of realisation. “You understood that,” She said in brief awe. “That’s right, you’re from the same time as me!” She motioned for him to join her on the log. Smiling to himself, he sat beside her. “I’m Sarah, by the way.” She stuck her hand out.

“So I’ve heard.” The new boy shook it firmly. He might have held on just a little too long – but then again, Sarah might have been imagining things. “Devin.” He looked at her curiously. “And what do you mean, your time?” Sarah blinked.

“Time stands still here,” She reminded him, but no comprehension dawned over his face. “Ok, I guess you didn’t know that yet.” He smiled warmly.

“Fresh off the boat, remember? So, how long have you been here?” Sarah looked up towards the canopy, thinking. It was hard to keep track of time on Neverland, harder still because she wasn’t sure time passed the same here as in her world. How many days and nights had passed? Weeks? Months? She couldn’t be sure.

“It was May when I left. But…time passes oddly here.” Devin raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t been here all that long, yet from the way that she was talked about – not to mention the way she was dressed – he’d thought she’d been her much longer. Sarah shook her head. “Anyway, some of the boys have been here for centuries – so if I say anything too modern, they never know what I’m talking about.” Sarah tilted her head. “You _are_ from my time, right?”

Devin held up his hands. “2014,” He solemnly promised. “Have the smartphone addiction kicking in right now to prove it.” Sarah laughed. She’d barely spared a thought for most technology since she got here – but then, her arrival had been less peaceful than she would guess Devin’s had been. It was harder to miss your cellphone when you were fearing for your life.

“Don’t worry,” She assured him, “You’ll have bigger things to worry about.” Devin leaned back, his hands resting off the log.

“Worry? Here?” He sat up again, arms gesturing around the camp. “There’s no rules, no school, no one telling you what to do – what could there be to worry about it?” He had _definitely_ had a more peaceful arrival than she had. Ruminating on the unfairness of it, Sarah grumbled,

“For you, probably nothing.” She looked back up to dry curiosity on his face. She sighed. “Look, let’s just say this place can be more dangerous than it looks.” Devin’s face twisted in disbelief. Sure, yesterday had been rough, but it wasn’t the scariest situation he’d ever been in. He jerked a hand in the direction of the camp’s newest feature.

“It’s full of flowerbeds,” He argued, “What’s so dangerous about that?”

“The ones who put them there, for one thing.” She shook her head. “Well, you’ll probably be fine, at any rate. I’m sure the Lost Boys won’t let you get too torn up in the jungle.” Devin smirked, meeting her eyes in an uncomfortably direct gaze.

“Do you count as part of the Lost Boys?” As friendly as he was acting, something didn’t feel quite right. She couldn’t put her finger on just what.

“Depends who you ask.” There was a story behind that bitterness in her voice, he was sure of it.

“They all seem pretty afraid of you,” His voice dropped lower, as if he didn’t want to be overheard. Sarah snorted. They didn’t seem afraid of her when they taunted her over her archery. Or tackled her when she came back in the evenings. Not even Cody seemed afraid of her any more, though she worried his admiration was more than was healthy. Devin leaned towards her. “You don’t seem that scary to me,” He murmured.

Yes, something was definitely wrong here. Sarah leaned away from the newcomer, saying firmly, “I’m stronger than I look.”

“Right.” Devin said, his voice returning to normal. “You can melt rocks after all. So that’s really true? I thought that kid was just smoking something.” It took an effort to keep her face from twisting unpleasantly.

 “No one on this island is smoking anything.” She said coolly. “I assure you. I don’t suppose anyone has told you how this place works yet?” He shook his head.

“Maybe you can tell me.” The uneasy feeling intensified. Was he getting closer, or was she paranoid? She never worried about closeness with the other Lost Boys. Maybe it was just because he was new – she wasn’t used to him yet, that was all. He was still waiting for an answer. She cleared her throat.

“Right. Well. Neverland runs on Belief. If you believe it, you can have it.” The boy’s brows furrowed. “Let me show you.” She closed her eyes, imagining the crisp green flesh of an apple. As she felt the smooth skin and light heft fall into her hand, she opened her eyes. The boy looked surprised, though less so than she might have expected.

“That’s a pretty neat trick,” He remarked. “Where did it come from?” Sarah’s eyebrows raised.

“I just told you.” A touch of annoyance crept into her voice. “It comes from belief. As for the rock melting, well.” She shrugged. “Some of us just have strong imaginations.” It wasn’t entirely the truth – but it was close enough. “Speaking of, I’ve got things to take care of elsewhere on the island. It was nice to meet you, Devin.” As she stood, Devin put a hand on her arm.

“Whoah, hey,” He cajoled, “Going so soon? I was really enjoying our conversation.” That made one of them. Devin stood to join her, much too close for her happiness. “Come on, you and I are both new here – we’re the only ones who come from the modern world, shouldn’t we be friends?” There it was. At last she could put a name on the uneasy feeling gnawing at her gut. She looked at his hand on her arm, and pointedly back at him.

“I don’t think “friends” is what you have in mind, is it? Let go of my arm.” Instead of letting go, the grip tightened. A dangerous irritation began to trickle over her.

“I’m just trying to be friendly,” Devin muttered, an unpleasant smile on his face. She shook her arm free to loosen it, and at this the smile faded to a sneer. “What, you think you’re above me because you’re the only girl? Or because you’re Pan’s chick?” He scoffed. “You’re not even hot. You stuck-up bi– ” He let go with a yelp, stumbling backwards as he stared in shock and horror at the girl whose entire arm had gone up in flames. The most terrifying part of it all was the expressionless stone of her face. She stared at him and Devin began to realise he was playing with a very different beast than the girls he’d met before.

The flames circled down her arm to congeal in a bubble around her hand. “Hot enough for you?” The light, pleasant tone of her voice made it all the more unsettling. He gaped.  She took a step forward, and Devin stepped back automatically. Sarah paused, shaking her head with a smile. She closed her eyes, and for a moment Devin wondered if now might be a good time to make a break for it.

Sarah twisted her flame free hand, and the Lost Boys in camp who had stopped to stare at the confrontation darted out of the way as vines shot over from the flowerbeds to hold the newcomer in place. He looked in terror from his feet to Sarah, whose eyelids fluttered open over something very dark indeed. “You – you’re crazy.” He spat. “Let me go!” A dark chuckle escaped her throat. Though she didn’t see it as focused as she was, a few of the Lost Boys slipped away into the jungle. Whatever Pan was doing, he needed to be found and brought back to camp. ASAP.

“You have no idea.” Sarah walked towards him until she was right on level with his face. He was a little younger than her, she thought, but she’d known plenty of boys and men like him of all ages. “You didn’t let me go when I told you to, Devin.” She blinked several times as though perplexed. “Why should I let go of you?” He growled. This was humiliating, and that shame flowed directly into anger. Sarah sighed.

“Let me make one thing clear to you, _little boy_.” She brought her hand up, the flames casting shadows even longer than the ones he could see in her eyes. The anger he felt brewing started choking out under its replacement: fear. “I am no one’s “chick”. I don’t care if you think I’m the ugliest girl you’ve ever seen in your life, because frankly if I were then at least I wouldn’t have to deal with unfortunate little insects like you.” She raised an eyebrow at the colourful language Devin hurled at her as a response. The vines around him tightened.

“You know, all the boys will tell you to be afraid of Pan. And you should be. But let me let you in on a little secret.” She leaned closer, dropping her voice. “If you aren’t going to respect a girl’s “no”, you should be very, _very_ afraid of me.” She smiled. “Do we understand each other?” Devin’s eyes went wide, and for a moment she thought he would agree – until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head back casually, only to be met with an irritated-looking Pan. One eyebrow was raised at the scene before him.

“Oh, hello Peter.” She said casually. “Back so soon?” Devin looked from one to the other, unsure whether to be hopeful Pan would rein his girlfriend in or terrified that he might find out why she was holding him in the first place. If the reason the others were afraid of him was anything like why they were afraid of Sarah, Devin had seriously miscalculated.

Devin wasn’t the only one unsure of how he felt. He might have promised to give up on chasing it, but Pan couldn’t deny the darkness swirling in Sarah’s eyes was alluring. Then again, he hadn’t expected she might use it to do whatever she was doing to the new recruit. He almost wondered what the boy had said, and might have even been a bit jealous that she would freely vent her anger in front of Devin when she was always so careful to restrain it in front of him. The other Lost Boys had to be considered too, as he knew they might worry if another magic user besides him was threatening their membership.

“Let him go, Sarah.” He ordered, and Devin breathed a sigh of heartfelt relief. Pan _would_ rein in his girl. Sarah, who had no intention of being reined, tilted her head. “That was an order.” He said more firmly. Sarah smiled, and Pan's heart skipped a beat at the cruelty that dripped from its edges.

“I don’t take orders, Peter.” She said sweetly. Pan’s eyes flashed.

“Then call it a suggestion.” His voice slid smoothly over ice. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about being me?” He half-way hoped the answer would be “yes”. But Sarah, blinking, took a moment to consider. She didn’t think of this as she had losing her temper so many other times. She didn’t feel bad as she usually did – and maybe that was dangerous. Then again…she thought back to what he had called her. Maybe if a girl had tried to set him on fire before, he wouldn’t have internalised so much misogyny.

Still, maybe Pan was right, odd as it was – this wasn’t exactly the best way to go about this, even if it felt amazing. With a sigh, the flames disappeared, and the vines went skittering peacefully back to their flowerbeds. Devin stumbled backwards, surprised to be free. He whipped his head to stare at the Lost Girl, who returned his gaze with one of disinterest. “Remember what I said, Devin.” She told the boy sweetly. Keeping one eye each on both Scylla and Charybdis, Devin nodded. He didn’t want Pan to find out what had made her flip the switch to psycho, and he certainly didn’t want to set her off again. “Now run along.” With a last glare over his shoulder, Devin skulked away.

Pan watched him go with curiosity, then turned to his slowly calming Lost Girl. “And just what,” He asked her pointedly, “Was all that?”


	84. "Talking"

Sarah weighed her options. On the one hand, she was fairly certain she’d already put the fear of God into Devin, and telling Pan the exact cause might have consequences for the boy she didn’t think she’d want on her conscience, no matter how much she disliked him. There was also that niggling worry that Pan wouldn’t think what Devin had done was bad, aside from going after her when she was already “Pan’s chick”, as Devin had phrased it. After all, Pan hadn’t exactly shown himself the most respectful of boundaries in the beginning. In the end she decided that she’d rather know for certain one way or the other, saying lightly,

“Some boys think they’re God’s gift to women,” She raised a pointed eyebrow, “And some don’t handle rejection well at all.” Pan was struck with the oddest feeling that although he had asked about Devin, the answer she was giving was directed towards him. He frowned.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Lost Girl?” His brow furrowed. “Wait. are you saying that Devin –” His face darkened, his mouth twisting into a snarl. “I’m going to –” Sarah cut him off.

“Understand that I can fight my own battles?” She suggested. “Have a talk with him about the importance of respecting other people’s boundaries?” Pan shot her a look. “Make clear to him that I’m a person, not a piece of property?” Pan scowled. Weren’t girls supposed to _like_ someone fighting to protect their honour? Aside from that, of course she wasn’t property – but she was still _his_ , and Devin needed to learn that or his stay on the island would be very short indeed.

Sarah could tell she wasn’t getting through to him. “Look. Devin and I had a nice little chat, and I don’t think he’ll try for a repeat.” Suddenly, she frowned. Her eyes pulled away from him as she seemed to retreat into her own mind, muttering to herself, “Oh my god, I really am like you.” She looked back up to Pan, eyes anxious as she exclaimed, “I’m calling threatening people “little chats”, Peter! Is this how it starts? I didn’t even feel bad about that!” And what’s more, even realising this, she still didn’t. She wasn’t even sure she _could_ feel bad about it, if she tried. If anything, she felt quite proud.

Pan knew he shouldn’t laugh at her distress. That didn’t make it any easier not to, particularly when she thought discouraging bad behaviour was on the same league as some of the terrible things he had done. His bad mood over Devin was evaporating, though whatever she said he still intended to have a talk of his own with the newest Lost Boy later, and with a laugh he scooped his panicking Lost Girl into his arms, saying, “I wouldn’t worry about it, Lost Girl.” She glared at him petulantly in response.

“I know _you_ wouldn’t,” She said testily, wriggling some to escape his grip. The Lost Boys were still very much in camp, after all. They were all very much aware of the goings-on between Lost Girl and leader by this point, but Sarah nonetheless had herself convinced that too much PDA would make the Lost Boys lose all respect for her. Whether that was true or not, they largely appreciated her discretion in any case. When her wriggling did not produce an escape, Sarah settled with glaring at him again. “That’s precisely the problem.”

Pan only smirked. “Well if you are on track to let those shadows out, I’m certainly not complaining.” She scowled. “But I think you’ve a ways to go yet.” He let her go, chuckling as she made a show of straightening her garments and hair with an air of greatest indignation. “Look, Sarah.” She did, but it wasn’t a friendly look. “There’s a difference between aggression and protection. It’s normal to want to protect the things we care about.” Sarah tilted her head. It sounded so innocent when he put it like that.

“Peter?” She paused, and his brows furrowed as he noticed her coming over nervous. Her voice went quiet, ever aware of listening Lost Boys. “I think I’d protect you.” Pan blinked. Then, laughing, he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

“You think, do you?” He asked wryly. She glanced to the side. “You know Sarah, I don’t exactly need protecting.” She looked up into his laughing eyes with a challenge of her own.

“Neither do I.” Heedless of his faithful followers, Pan kissed her gently on the forehead.

“In that case, I’ll be returning to my business with the island.” She thought he had returned to being serious, until he added with a smirk, “So long as you can keep from killing any of my Lost Boys while I’m gone?” She scowled, and he laughed. Teasing her really was just too easy.

Elsewhere, Pan was not the only one who intended on “talking” with the newest addition to the Lost Boys. Word travelled fast on the island, and when the news that Sarah was reacting strongly to Devin’s ill-advised advances reached certain ears, more than one person decided that Something had to be Done. Xavier was in favour of ambushing him in the jungle, a plan Nibs was surprisingly on board with considering his usual dislike for ambushes as opposed to direct combat. Rasheed posited that it seemed Sarah could take of herself, and if the new boy was stupid enough to try a similar thing again, he would no doubt come to regret it. Kasim, who had been roped into their congress by Xavier, was much of Rasheed’s mind.

Arthur was strangely quiet on the matter, and it took even Xavier some time to figure out why: Arthur was angry. Arthur was never angry. He stopped in the middle of an ambush plan, telling Nibs to keep thinking while he drew Arthur off to the side. His freckled face scrunched with worry as he squeezed Arthur’s hand. “It’s about her, isn’t it?” He asked quietly. Arthur’s hands clenched into fists. It was almost scary to see him like this, his calm, gentle Arthur. Sure, he could be fierce in a fight when he wanted to – but he _never_ got angry.

“Yes.” His voice came out strained. For all the fighting the Lost Boys did, Arthur had never been a violent person. All the same, he felt an overwhelming urge to hurt rising up within him. Was this what Sarah had meant when she said her anger felt electric? But it wasn’t a good feeling to him, like she’d described it. It felt caustic. Like he was burning from the inside out, and had no way to stop the fire. He wanted to hurt Devin. He hadn’t forgiven Mabel. But if he acted on his anger, would he still be the same boy?

“The best revenge is living forever.” Xavier proffered, and he was right – Mabel died a long, long time ago. Young or from old age, he’d no idea – but he’d lived out several lifespans by now, he knew. But Devin – Devin was on Neverland. He’d live as long as them. Catching sight of Xavier’s worried gaze, he paused. He took a deep, calming breath and then another. Unless Pan kicked him off the island, Devin was here to stay. And ambushing him in the jungle probably wouldn’t solve their problem, not at the root. No, as much as his emotions were screaming at him to do otherwise, his cooler head prevailed. Someone needed to talk – actually talk, and not with fists, to Devin.

Arthur glanced over at Nibs passionately arguing to his friends that action was needed. Unfortunately, that someone was probably him. Promising Xavier he’d return, Arthur slipped away. Xavier watched him go with worried eyes, though he knew Arthur could look after himself. The anger was calmed, or at least put back behind a wall, but Xavier still worried. Messing with Sarah was bad enough, but if Devin hurt Arthur? He’d wished he’d never even heard of Neverland. Xavier would make sure of it.

For his part, Devin was crashing through the jungle. He didn’t really know where he was going – anywhere away from Sarah would be preferable – and he didn’t know that he was the topic of conversation the island over. As he swatted at branches and vines obstructing his path, he fumed. His pride was injured, being shown up by what he’d thought was just another wimpy girl. He was still worried, too, about what the island’s leader might do once he knew Devin was putting the moves on his girl. The one thing he wasn’t worried about was Felix.

Between the way Devin was crashing through the jungle and Felix’s own ability to through them quietly as a church mouse after his many years on the island, it was no surprise that Felix managed to sneak up on him. Well. No surprise to anyone but Devin. “Seems like you’re in quite a rush, fresh meat.” Devin stumbled to the side with a shout as Felix appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, beside him.

Devin swore. “Who are you?” He demanded, “And what the hell do you want?” Tasked with keeping Sarah distracted as he had been, Felix hadn’t been with the welcome party when Devin arrived on Neverland. Seeing the new boy now, he wasn’t exactly impressed.  He smiled, and Devin felt a wave of unease wash over him.

“I keep peace in the camp.” Felix answered brightly. The false cheer set Devin’s teeth even more on edge, and he squared his shoulders to try and hide his nerves. “And right now, you’re interfering with that.” Devin didn’t want to back down twice in one day.

“So you’re what,” He blustered, “Pan’s enforcer? Can’t be that tough if he needs someone else to do his dirty work.” Felix tilted his head in a condescending look. If this boy really thought Pan would need that, he was in for a rough time.

“Something like that.” Devin’s eyes skirted sideways, and Felix could tell he was having the desired intimidation effect. “Why don’t you and I take a walk, fresh meat?”

“I’m not going with you anywhere, man.” Felix chuckled.

“It wasn’t really a question.” Devin turned to go, but Felix laid his club over his shoulder. Devin pushed it of with a snarl, but Felix was unimpressed. “Easy way or hard way, fresh meat.” He drawled. “Your choice.” Devin tried to stare him down.

“Fine.” He grumbled at last. “If you’re so desperate, I’ll walk with you.” Felix smiled, and began ambling along the path. Devin followed reluctantly after.

“You know,” Felix observed, “You look plenty old enough to know when a woman isn’t in to you.” Devin stopped. Pan knew, didn’t he? Pan knew, and he’d sent this overgrown blonde bruiser to mete out whatever punishment came with going after something that belonged to him. Felix turned, a look of false perplexion on his face. “Now, you don’t exactly look like the stupid type. I heard you were warned to stay away from our little firestarter.” Devin’s panic grew. “So what I can’t figure out is, where did you miss putting two and two together?”

“I –” Devin stammered, fumbling to think of an answer that wouldn’t end with him getting burnt to a crisp. Maybe everyone on this island had magic – the boy in front of him probably did at least, if he was the one who did Pan’s dirty work. Just what had he gotten himself into? Felix smiled balefully.

“You’re not going to make a mistake like that again, are you fresh meat?” Devin stared, breathing heavily through his nose. Felix sighed, looking lazily off to the side. “You know, the others are pretty fond of Sarah.” Devin found a scarp of courage somewhere, enough to snipe,

“What, you trying to get with her too? Is everyone?” Felix chuckled.

“Seems I was wrong about you being the stupid type,” He drawled. Devin glared back at him. “But maybe you can learn.” He shrugged. “Or maybe you can’t. Take my advice, fresh meat.” He levelled him with a steady gaze that made Devin feel inexplicably like shrivelling away into nothing. “Treat her like you would any other Lost Boy.”

“She’s not a boy.” Devin argued. Felix lifted his brows.

“Well, suit yourself.” He smiled. “But don’t blame me if someone throws you to the mermaids.” Devin’s brows furrowed. “Been a while since they’ve gotten a Lost Boy.” Felix added. “I’m sure they’re mighty hungry.”

Felix left Devin to think over his advice, setting a return course for camp to see just how bad things were. The boys had grown more fond of Sarah than he’d expected, if the relative levels of upset between Sarah’s outburst and what Devin had done to cause it were anything to go by. He’d never admit it to her, since her irritation was too amusing, but even he found that she fit in well on the island. Even if she _was_ still terrible at almost everything the Lost Boys were good at.

He ran into the girl of the hour as he was coming back into camp. “Felix,” Her tone expressed some surprise at seeing him headed towards camp in the afternoon. Ordinarily he was on business with Pan, or at least that’s what she’d always assumed. “Shouldn’t you be with your keeper?” Felix smiled unpleasantly.

“Might say the same to you, little bird.” He drawled. “You spend more time with him than I do.”

“Pan is not my keeper.” Sarah grumbled, annoyed at the insinuation for the second time today that she in some way belonged to him.  “You’re the one that follows his orders.” Felix shrugged.

“When I feel like it.” He grinned. “Least I’m not following his mouth.” Sarah growled, eyes narrowing as her muscles steeled to launch herself at the boy. Seeing the glimmer of victory in his eye, she stopped herself. She turned her head with a sniff, saying breezily,

“You’ll have to try harder than that, Felix. I think your taunts are losing their touch.” Felix almost let slip a laugh.

“Well, if you really want me to –”

“I don’t.” Sarah cut him off before he could say anything more frustrating than he already had. “Good _bye_ , Felix.” She marched passed him, shoulders back, into the jungle – crashing all the way. Felix watched her for a moment before turning with a snort back towards camp. Yes, one thing was for sure: whatever he’d expected when the Shadow dropped a girl onto the beach, Sarah was most certainly not it.  


	85. Always

She didn’t see Devin again for several days. At first she thought he was just avoiding her, as Lucian did, but eventually she grew suspicious. When she broached the subject at last to Pan, thinking he’d done something he shouldn’t have, he waved her off.

“Seems I wasn’t the only one who wanted to have a chat with him.” He remarked dryly. The two were sitting by her favourite meadow, taking turns believing up fantastical sights to decorate it. Sarah had made a magnificent opalescent oak tree, which Pan had morphed into a gleaming silver tower, and Sarah had in turn changed it to a fountain of what looked like pure moonlight. It was then that she’d found the courage to ask him.

 She furrowed her brows at his unexpected response. “As it happens, it seems he’s banished from the camp until he apologises.” Her gaze turned sharp, and Pan held his hands up in defense. “Wasn’t my doing,” He promised. “I’d have just tossed him in the cages.” His look turned thoughtful. “Or maybe thrown him to the mermaids. They do get cranky when there are no pirates around to eat.” Her look now turned to horror, even as Pan changed her fountain to a gleaming crystalline structure woven through with knot-worked gems. Having seen their teeth up close and personal herself, she didn’t want to imagine them tearing into flesh.

Pan rolled his eyes at her expression. “Don’t look at me like that,” He accused, “You’re the one that almost burned him to a crisp. _Anyway_ ,” He pressed on before Sarah could interrupt to argue, “It seems your friends were quite persuasive – I understand they promised to make things rather difficult for him if he didn’t meet their demands.” Sarah sat a moment, open-mouthed. The Lost Boys had done that…for her? Her heart beat faster, and Pan was annoyed to see the gratitude welling up in her eyes. He frowned.

“You didn’t seem _nearly_ so happy when I was the one trying to fight for your honour.” Sarah shot him an annoyed look.

“You were acting possessive.” She admonished. “Not protective.” He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again – he was, in fact, known for his possessiveness. “The Lost Boys just see me as one of them.” She frowned. “Or maybe they’re just worried he’ll send you on a rampage.” That was a decidedly less flattering option, and Pan rolled his eyes at the idea.

“They _like you_ , Lost Girl.” She smiled – he sounded annoyed. “Look, enough about Devin – it’s your turn.”

Buoyed by this confirmation of affection from the boys she was so fond of, Sarah closed her eyes. Pan’s crystalline net was beautiful, and she would need something truly amazing to outshine it. In her mind she saw the ropes of jewels unfurling, twisting up and outwards as the petals of a flower, with the crystal coming in to fill the gaps. That wasn’t enough.  She pictured the crystals hollowing out, until instead of solid they stretched as spindly rods in the petal-like structures, and she saw golden strings interspersed between them. Vines grew out from the gemstone flower’s base, plucking at the strings and striking the crystalline rods to create a soft and delicate music, like the kind she heard when her mind was just starting to drift into sleep.

As she heard the notes begin to play, she opened her eyes – and swayed backwards, her vision browning out. “Sarah!” Pan’s voice sounded far away, and it took her a moment to realise he was gripping her arm. She blinked, hard, to clear the static from her vision. Pan came into focus, anxious concern evident on his face. She felt a little nauseous. “Sarah.” She could hear his voice clearly again, at least. “What was that?” He covered his concern with a tone of annoyance.

Sarah took a deep breath, steadying herself against the ground. “I’m not sure,” She said carefully. “I guess I Believed a bit too hard.” Pan glanced from her to her creation, playing merrily away on its petals. “It’s happened before, I’ll be fine.” His expression darkened.

“What do you mean, it’s happened before?” Did he have to speak so loudly? Sarah winced.

“Not quite this bad, I think – but sometimes, it does make me woozy.” She tried a chuckle. “Guess that will teach me not to try and beat you, huh?” His jaw tightened. She shouldn’t be laughing about this. This shouldn’t be happening – Believing never made him sick, no matter how big or small he went. Maybe she wasn’t as strongly connected to the island as they thought. Or maybe…he stood abruptly. Sarah looked up at him, confused.

“Come on.” He reached down a hand to pull her up, which she took with some perplexion. “Let’s get you back to camp to rest. I think it’s time I saw my Shadow again.” Her face fell.

“Peter, you’re overreacting.” It was just a little dizziness. She didn’t want anything to do with the shadow that had suggested she wouldn’t belong on Neverland forever. “I’m feeling fine now, really. It’s just a momentary thing!” Pan was not to be dissuaded.

“No more Believing until I get back.” He ordered. “Or nothing big, at least.” Irritation crossed her face.

“I’ve told you before, Peter, I don’t take –”

“Then consider it a request,” He interrupted smoothly, brushing his hand over her cheek. “For me.” Her brows furrowed. Sarah Everett did not take orders – and Peter Pan did not make requests.

“Ok.” She agreed at last. It wasn’t as though she performed large acts of Belief all the time, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. The only thing that worried her about it was the fact that Pan was worried – a rare occurrence from someone so often in control. Still, sitting in camp when she felt anxious would hardly do her good. “Peter,” He brushed his thumb idly over her hand. “Bring me back to my willow instead?” Pan raised an eyebrow.

“Will it let me near it?” He hadn’t forgiven the tree for barring him entrance the day he had found her again in the jungle. Sarah smiled – the boy king could certainly hold a grudge.

“I think if it feels me with you it will be fine.” She stroked his cheek. Pan set his face in a way that told her he harboured his doubts – but nonetheless when they disappeared, they reappeared just outside her willow. She could sense it didn’t quite trust him – but since its girl didn’t seem to mind, it wouldn’t keep him out just yet. “See?” She needled. “I told you.” Pan rolled his eyes, but then blinked, looking at her with a seriousness that only made her worry even more.

“Remember what I said.” Sarah raised her hands.

“No Believing.” Pan nodded firmly, then vanished from before her. With an unsteady sigh, she climbed into the willow’s homey branches. _He said no Believing_ , she mused to herself. _But if he’s going to talk to his Shadow…_ He wasn’t the only one who had a magical being to seek answers from.

She spoke softly, tentatively, not sure she’d get a response. “Neverland?” No answer yet. “Do you know why…I mean. Is Peter over- am I on the right track, with the Believing?” She felt a warm hum. She couldn’t quite explain it, it wasn’t even a presence so much as it was a feeling – or perhaps a particularly strong thought.

 _You’ve done so well, my Dreamer._ Sarah’s heart swelled as the familiar voice sounded in her mind. _You’ve made so many beautiful things all over my forests, and meadows, and beaches. Your imagination has truly grown._ “I’m glad you like them,” Sarah whispered bashfully. _I love them as I always have always loved your dreams._ Sarah furrowed her brows as she felt a sadness weight the air around her. _I wish I could spare you from what is to come._

Her heartbeat accelerated. What was to come? What did that mean, and why was Neverland so sad about what it would do to her? A dark thought filled her mind. Maybe the Shadow was right – maybe she didn’t belong in Neverland forever after all.

“I’m not sure it even exists, honestly.” The muffled sounds of conversation from outside her haven’s branches grabbed her attention. The presence evaporated, leaving Sarah alone with her willow, her worries, and the muffled strains of Lost Boys’ conversation. “I mean, the heart of the truest believer? It sounds made up.”

“Shut up!” Another voice hissed. “What if someone hears you?” Her ears perked up. If there was one thing she couldn’t resist, it was a secret.

“She’s probably off with Pan right now anyway.” The first voice grumbled. Was it Koya? She couldn’t say for sure. If her interest wasn’t piqued before, it definitely was now. Just what was it she wasn’t supposed to hear? “Look, all I’m saying is that if it means getting pricks like that Devin kid, maybe searching for it isn’t really worth it.”

“I’m not trying to die of old age all at once here.” She was pretty sure the other voice was Loto. Her heart began beating faster. Was this what Neverland had mentioned? _Oh god._ The thought was too horrible. If their ages caught up with them all at once, she’d be alone. She’d watch her friends die – watch Pan die, and then she’d be alone.  Her hand moved mutely to her mouth. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind once more, as though she was on the tip of remembering something – but if what she was remembering was a horrible death for her friends, she didn’t _want_ to remember. Not unless she could do something about it.

 _There will be a price_. Once again, words floated back to her like something from a dream. It felt like Neverland’s words, but they had never said them to her, had they? _I have always loved your dreams._ Always. Always as in since she came to Neverland, or…before? Her head felt strangely spinny once again. But spinning or not, she slid down from the branches. The leaves of her willow quivered, sensing her distress. “I’ll be fine,” She told it gently, though she wasn’t sure she believed herself. “I just have to find some answers.” Stroking it lovingly to say goodbye, she closed her eyes and vanished, reappearing in the one place she thought might have the answers she sought: the waterfall.


	86. Heart

After depositing Sarah in her thinking tree, Pan arrived at his. His face was far from the gentle concern he’d showed Sarah, and if she could see him now she might even worry that he was falling back into old habits. “Get out here.” He snarled to the jungle. Darkness swirled and congealed until the Shadow floated before him, two bright specks glowing in place of eyes. Pan glared at it hatefully, an irritating reminder despite its usefulness that maybe – just maybe – there was a future in which his Lost Girl was not at his side.

“Is it time for another already?” All these centuries, he still wasn’t used to its grating voice. “The other came only yesterday. Or was it this morning?” Pan snarled as its laughter thudded in the air around them. “It’s hard to keep track of a story.” The thing he hated most about the Shadow, however useful it was, is that it always seemed to be mocking him. No matter how powerful he became, the Shadow still seemed to see itself as above him. Even – no, especially – when it was carrying out his bidding.

Pan hadn’t summoned the Shadow for small talk. “What’s wrong with Sarah?” He demanded harshly. The Shadow whirled lazily around him.

“Sarah belongs on Neverland.” Hadn’t it said before that she didn’t? Or at least that she wouldn’t forever? “Neverland is running out.” His jaw clenched. He knew the magic was running out. That was the entire purpose of finding the Heart in the first place. But Sarah hadn’t been here very long, it wasn’t as though she would die if time started running again. And of course…his hand tightened to a fist. He’d never let the magic run out either way. But now, knowing that is might affect Sarah as much as him?

“Find another one.” He ordered. “Tonight.” It was time to accelerate the plan.

Sarah stood before the waterfall, the source of Neverland’s magic. Pan had taken her here more than once when he needed answers, and she hoped that now she could find some of her own. She knelt by the edge of the water, and though the water rose to greet her, she wasn’t sure what more to do. Until she remembered the whispers in the pond. Steeling herself with a deep breath, and uncertain if this was a good idea or a stupid one, she slipped off her boots and socks and waded into the water.

The feeling all around her was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It felt like flying and singing and dancing all at once, raw energy sparking off her skin in trickles of warmth and flashes of cool. She leaned her head back, and swore she could hear laughter. Musical laughter, like the tinkling of bells or the breath of a storm through a wind chime. _No turning back now,_ she mused to herself. Taking a deep breath, she dove under.

All at once, she was out of the water. Not on the banks by the waterfall, but not underneath it either. Instead she was floating in a strange, misty place that seemed unusually familiar. _Am I dreaming?_ She thought in wonder. A familiar voice hummed, _No, Sarah. You are Awake. At last, you are Awake._ All at once, her memory of dreams came crashing back. She closed her eyes, staggering somewhat under the force of sudden remembrance. She saw Neverland now, that familiar face, a face that for once she knew she’d remember. All her adventures in her dreams, all the nights spent with her island. She smiled at the happy memories. Her face fell as more recent memories reached the surface.

 Pan. The island…the heart. She looked towards the misty figure, who smiled sadly. “Still?” Sarah asked in a whisper. The figure nodded. That couldn’t be. Peter, her Peter, couldn’t be the one hurting her island. He was so different now, surely his dreams weren’t twisting them still. _Why is that?_ The dark voice in the back of her mind, not nearly so friendly as Neverland’s, emerged to taunt her once more. _Because he kisses you and shows you pretty things? Because he happens to like you enough to put on a show of being anything but what he is?_ It wasn’t like that. _Then explain._ She couldn’t.

 _He is better than he was,_ the island tried to soothe her. _You have brought him kinder dreams. But my magic still runs out._ The figure’s face turned serious. _And you know what he will do to keep his power._ She did. She didn’t want to, but she did. Unless… Sarah broke the surface, an icy chill creeping over her heart.

___

Though it wasn’t yet dark, they were just starting to light the fires when she returned to camp. Privately, Pan had started to worry. She hadn’t disappeared from camp like this in quite a while, and since things had been going so well he was at a loss as to why she would now. She’d assured him earlier that she felt fine, but when he returned to her willow she wasn’t there. He’d assumed she had gone back to camp, and even when he found she hadn’t he was sure she would be back soon.

Now he wasn’t so sure. As much as it liked her, he had a feeling Neverland would warn him if she were in danger. But if it wasn’t that she was in trouble, why hadn’t she returned? Not wanting to be disturbed, he shut himself inside his tent. He didn’t want the Lost Boys to see their leader worried. And their leader was growing that and then some.

They all knew something was wrong. Pan disappearing to his tent was normal enough, even if he hadn’t done it much recently. But the moment Sarah reappeared in camp, the Lost Boys could tell. Their sense of foreboding only heightened as she walked past them like a ghost, ignoring their greetings as if she didn’t even see them. She finally stopped in front of their leader’s tent.

“Where is he?” When she spoke at last, her voice was hoarse. It almost sounded as though she’d been crying. The Lost Boys froze, all feeling that something Very Bad Indeed was about to go down in front of them. Not one would dare to move. The canvas rustled, and the boy she had been searching for stepped out in front of her. He smiled at first when he saw her, an astonishing amount of relief clear on his face. That quickly faded as he took in her darkened mood.

“Sarah, what –”

“Is it true?” Sarah cut him off. There wasn’t time for pleasantries, or banter, or for him to try and spin his words around so that her brain would muddle and her conscience fog until she couldn’t see him again for what he was. A part of her still hoped, desperately hoped, that maybe the island had somehow misunderstood, or that maybe his plan had changed and he wasn’t trying to murder a child anymore. Pan’s brows furrowed. _He’d_ had no revelations today, and had frankly no idea what she was talking about. “The Heart of the Truest Believer.” Alarm bells rang.

“The heart of what?” He responded so casually that she knew it was a front. Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t lie to me.” She ordered. “For once, just tell me the truth. Is it true?” Her words bit into the ground, sharp as steel. His eyes gave him away. “You’re going to murder an innocent person – a child! So you can stay young and powerful forever?” He hated the way she looked at him then. Before, he would have relished it, enjoyed that yet another person thought he was a cold, unfeeling, unstoppable monster. Before. 

“It isn’t quite like that.” He spoke softly, trying to shove down the swarm of anger and fear and worry swirling and bubbling around within him. “The island is dying, Sarah.”

“ _I know that_.” Her words were filled with venom. Did he think the island wouldn’t tell her? Wouldn’t say what he was doing to it? “And I know who’s to blame for it, too.” His eyes widened as though he’d been slapped. It wasn’t _his_ fault the magic was limited. And wasn’t he doing what he needed to to fix it? The island was being ungrateful if it didn’t like his methods. He took a breath to smooth the anger from his voice.

“It takes magic to keep all of us alive here.” He told her calmly. “If the magic runs out, the island dies. We die with it.” He frowned. “It isn’t pretty, but sometimes things worth fighting for require sacrifice.” He stepped closer. “You understand that, don’t you Sarah?” His eyes looked so soft in the firelight, pleading with her to give up the anger and sadness and betrayal she felt running through her. What he was saying sounded so easy, so noble – a sacrifice for the greater good. To save the island, and everyone on it. But it wouldn’t save the island at all. She thought of the forlorn face of her old friend, dreading the thing they might become if Pan succeeded.

“No.” She stepped backwards, shaking her head. “No, I don’t – _Peter_.” Her heart cracked as her voice did when she said his name. She couldn’t even look at him.

Pan narrowed his eyes. Reason hadn’t worked. It was time for a different track. “You knew who I was going into this, Sarah.” She shook her head again. This was different. This was murder. “And I know who you are. You’ve almost killed as well, and at far less provocation.”

“But I _didn’t_ ,” she said forcefully. “And I would never do this _thing_ you want to do.” Heedless of the Lost Boys looking on, tears pricked her eyes. They glared back at him with accusations made all the sharper by the connection shared between them.

He hoped that connection might be enough. “You said you would protect me.”

“Not like this.”

Pan crept up closer. “I’d protect you.” He spoke softly now, close enough the Lost Boys couldn’t hear. “And this will let me.” Sarah squared her jaw. No matter what had passed between them, she couldn’t stomach this. Her fists clenched tight. Her voice fell like shattered glass.

“I don’t need you to protect me.” With a shuddery breath, she took a decisive step away from him. The distance of only steps yawned between them, stretching to an impassable abyss. Lightning crackled across the chasm to join the gaze of the two Dreamers, light and dark, as repulsive to the other as they were magnetic. “I will find another way.” The cold steel of her voice slid throughout the camp, and even softly as she’d spoken every Lost Boy and every branch of every tree top heard her words. They felt the island shiver.

Pan alone seemed unperturbed, though inside he was quaking. “You can’t stop me, Sarah. I’ll do what needs to be done. For Neverland. For all of us.” Sarah didn’t blink. She held his gaze steadily, rising over heartbreak to meet this final challenge from the demon king of the island.

“Watch me.” Her words reverberated through the jungle. And then, she was gone.

Deafening silence fell over the camp. No one dared to move, or even breathe, as the energy around their leader swelled and darkened. Without his Lost Girl in front of him to calm the storm, the anger flowed back in waves that tore at every soft thing she had built, and every boy in that moment wished they too had magic that they might disappear as she had. Their leader’s anger was as they had never seen it. And it was terrible.

His hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, the ground below him cracking as they did so. A harsh wind began to tear at leaves and tent ropes, open canvas flapping wildly in the first keenings of a storm. Pan’s glare sliced a slow arc over the camp. The Lost Boys didn’t need to be told twice. All scattered to their tents, battening down the hatches in the hopes of keeping rain and rage both from their quarters.

Only Felix remained. Pan settled his glare on his lieutenant. Felix didn’t flinch. “How did she find out?” Felix didn’t respond. Pan snarled, closing the distance rapidly between them. “I’m not feeling particularly patient, Felix. So unless you’d like another scar to make yourself symmetric, I’d start talking.” Threats didn’t phase Felix anymore. He’d lived with Pan too long, and seen too much before him to lose his cool over even a strong outburst from his leader. Calmly, he replied,

“She’s a curious girl. Pops up plenty of places she shouldn’t.” Pan growled again – his answer wasn’t clear enough. “I don’t know how she found out.” Felix admitted. “But it was only a matter of time until she did.”

Pan looked away, still silently fuming. She should never have found out. Then everything would have been fine. She’d never have looked at him again like he was a monster. Or even worse, like he was an object of disgust.

“Why don’t you let me talk to her.” Pan’s eyes snapped sharply upwards.

“You?” He spat. “She hates you. If anything, you’ll make it worse.” Felix shrugged.

“I might surprise you.” Pan searched his lieutenant’s face with a calculating glare. Felix was always hard to read, but the subtleties of this expression were almost wholly unfamiliar to him. The closest he’d seen was irritation, but irritation this was not. Something in the slight furrow of the eyebrows, the darting glances from his eyes, the hint of stiffness Felix almost never had. Pan’s eyes widened with surprise. He almost rejected his guess at first as unbelievable. Against all chances prior, the unflappable Felix was worried.

Confused by this, and feeling inexplicably the flood of anger trickle uselessly into hurt, he nodded stiffly. “Bring her...” he shook his head. His voice had come out much too strained, sounding less like an order and more like a plea. He cleared his throat, but Felix kept him from trying again.

“I’ll do my best.” The two locked eyes then, and Pan felt a surge of appreciation unexpected even for his oldest and most loyal follower. He rested a hand on the taller boy’s shoulder. No more words passed before Pan vanished away and left Felix alone to his work. Yet Felix felt the sentiment as clear as any sentence spoken aloud. Pan was not one for thanks or compliments – but his gratitude reached volumes.

With this exhortation, Felix turned and walked into the jungle. He had little idea how he could patch this rifting of the island, only that it was vital that he did so. If he didn’t, things would never be the same again. And the idea of that left Felix more than worried. For the first time in over a century, Felix was afraid.


	87. Blood

He found her, as he’d suspected, at her willow. The tree was quivering as though it could sense something was wrong. The whole island, in fact, felt on edge, though from which of the two connected to it Felix couldn’t say. Maybe both, or maybe the fact that they were at odds gave the island the feeling that at any moment, it might very well rip apart. He stood outside the branches for a moment, turning over what he could possibly say to calm her down. For all they looked to be the same age, Sarah was young – and worse than that, she was naïve. She didn’t understand that sometimes good things came at a price. He pushed away the feelings of fear – they wouldn’t do him any good in this conversation – and lifted his hand to part the willow fronds.

“Who’s there?” The sharpness of her voice sounded as if it were masking something. “Oh. It’s _you_.”

“Came to talk.” Felix called up. Silence answered. “Quite a show in camp.”

“It wasn’t a show.” More silence.

“Suppose it wasn’t.” No answer. Felix sighed. “I warned you you didn’t know what Pan was capable of.” Sarah shimmied down the trunk, her face appearing through the leaves. Felix noticed the red around her eyes, the trail of tear-tracks down her face. His work was cut out for him. She wasn’t crying any more, but he suspected this is what the initial sharpness of her voice had been hiding. He wasn’t good with tears.

“You warned me in terms of what he might do to _me._ ” Sarah accused. “You never warned me he was planning to kidnap and murder a child.” Felix didn’t react.

“Ends justify the means,” Was all he said. Sarah gaped.

“You can’t be ok with this,” She insisted angrily. “You’re going to help him murder an innocent child so that he can keep his power? Are you serious?” Felix was loyal to Pan, but this was really going too far.

“It’s one life for many.” He met her glare with a steely calm. “Not just him, all the Lost Boys. One heart from a stranger, in exchange for all the Lost Boys there are now or ever will be.”

Sarah didn’t flinch. “Genius.” She spat. “No wonder he gathered you all up. Now he can murder and make it look like he’s being a hero.” Her heart complained at this assessment of him, but she smothered it. Knowing what she knew, it was far easier to see him a monster than to accept that someone so close to her could do such a thing.

“You have no idea what he took us from, little bird.” A sharp edge began to creep over Felix’s voice. He was growing impatient with Sarah’s high-minded morality when she didn’t know the first thing about why Pan might decide taking a heart was a necessity.

Sarah leaned in closer, as close to his face as she could get without standing on her toes. “And what did he take you from, Felix?” Her companion was silent. He didn’t want to answer her questions. She scoffed, turning away from him. “Right. Of course. I should know better by now than to expect answers from you.” He didn’t want to – but doing so might be the only way to bring her back. He sighed, resigning himself to his fate.

“How old is a man where you’re from, Sarah?” Sarah scrunched her forehead in confusion as she turned back to face him. What did that have to do with anything? Was he going to quibble on who really counted as a child? “Where I come from, a man is anyone big enough to hold a weapon.” A sardonic smile split Felix’s face. It didn’t reach his eyes. “And I’ve always been tall for my age.”  Slowly, the gears in Sarah’s mind clicked into place.

“You were a…soldier?” It made sense, she supposed. His fighting skills. Spending time before the island with men, not boys – his discipline and his stoicism. Felix scoffed at her response.

“I was fodder.” His false cheer dropped. “We were all fodder. We dropped like flies and no one cared.” He leveled her with a steady gaze she could not meet, standing speechless. “Boys as young as 11, throwing themselves on a field to die. One life is nothing.” She opened her mouth – that couldn’t be right – but shut it again, shamefaced. What could she possibly say to Felix after what he had gone through?

“Do you know what a mercy cut is, little bird?” Sarah nodded stiffly, a pained look on her face. “It’s grunt work. Six years in, they still gave it to me. In our unit, I was the youngest one left. After a battle we won, I’d go over the field and anyone who was still gasping, I’d drive a knife through his heart. Special-made for the purpose.” Sarah’s hand lifted to her mouth without her realising it. “Better than dying slow and painful.”

She reached a hand out towards his arm. Six years, he’d fought and somehow survived his wars? No wonder he disappeared into himself so much. No wonder he never wanted to talk. “Felix.” She murmured softly. Her hand brushed his cloak, but he shrugged her off.

“I'm not looking for your pity.” She drew her hand away. “But think about this the next time you want to call Pan a monster: Neverland is the only place where children can be children, without the world forcing them to grow up and grow up fast.” Sarah nodded stiffly. “And if they die here, well. At least it’s for something worthwhile.” A long silence stretched between them.

“I’m sorry.” Sarah said at last. What else could she say, in the face of such a story? “But…” Maybe she was pushing her luck, maybe she was being callous – but she couldn’t stop herself. “Doesn’t it bother you? All the playing at fighting. Doesn’t it, well…” She faltered. “Remind you?”

A dull grin tugged at the corner of Felix’s mouth. “Can’t be reminded of something you never forget.” He looked out over the jungle. “A blade through flesh is top of the list.” He hefted his club over his shoulder, and Sarah’s brows furrowed. 

“That’s why you use the club.” She didn’t think he’d answer the question hanging off of her statement, but she hung it there nonetheless. A long silence followed.

“Yes.” In that moment she felt as though Felix were far away, in another time and place that she suspected he’d very much like to forget. She knew she would. “Felt enough of steel on bone for every lifetime.” He levelled her once more with that steady gaze she couldn’t escape. “And now you know why I think it’s worth it.” That was an understatement.  “The world is a terrible place, little bird. Good things are built on blood.”

Sarah was quiet a long time. For all the hell Felix had been through, she still didn’t feel that this was right. And aside from that… “What if there were another way?” Felix sighed.

“There isn’t. If there were, Pan would have found it by now. He’s been searching for centuries.” Sarah frowned. He could see she didn’t believe him.

“That’s not what Neverland told me.” Ok, that surprised him. Other than the Shadow, he was relatively certain even Pan had never talked to Neverland – if he had, he’d kept it a secret from Felix. And there were very few things he kept secret from Felix. “They told me there’s another way. There’s some kind of price, but…” She hesitated. “I woke up before they could tell me what it was.”

“Tricky thing, to put your faith in a dream.” Felix watched with interest as Sarah’s face took on a more determined set.

“This island is made of dreams, Felix.” She squared her shoulders. “Neverland asked me to dream for them. They said that if I dreamed for them, it would save them. And as for the price…” She met his eyes with steely determination. He could still see the fear behind the metal – but he could also see she was carrying on in spite of it. “Whatever it is, it’s time for me to pay it.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Felix prodded. “Take a nap and hope the island speaks to you again?” Sarah shot him a dark look.

“No. I’m going back to the waterfall.” The steel faltered for a moment. “If I don’t come back, tell…” Felix raised an eyebrow. She shook her head, breathing out strongly through her nostrils. “Never mind.” Even with an unknown fate before her, she couldn’t find the words she needed. “But Felix?” The other eyebrow raised to match. “Thank you.” She whispered softly. Felix closed his eyes, chuckling.

“You sure say that a lot,” He mused with a smile. “For someone who hates me.”

Before too long the waterfall stood before her. Even as wonderful as it had felt the last time she was here, she was afraid to dive under the waters again. There was a price she had to pay, and she didn’t know what it was – but she had the foreboding it wouldn’t be pleasant. _Good things are built on blood_. Maybe there was truth to that. Neverland had told her she wouldn’t die – but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be sacrifice. _It’s now or never, Sarah_. She steeled herself, and taking a deep breath, dove in.

She found herself once more in the world of mists. “Neverland?” She called, her voice a little shaky. “I’m here.” The island materialised. _You wouldn’t let him win._ She felt their pride, and though it was good to know she’d done right, tears pricked at her eyes. She wasn’t up against some evil enemy, as the heroes of her books had been, but against someone she cherished. Against someone she cared for. Against someone who cared for her.

She felt the island’s cool, misty arms wrap around her. _I’m sorry, my Dreamer. I wish it didn’t have to be this way._ Sarah drew a shuddery breath. “You said it didn’t,” Her voice faltered as it fell. “Have to be Pet– Pan’s way. You said there is another.” The misty hand smoothed over her hair. _I wish there was another way still._

Sarah gulped. “I’ll do it.” She promised stoutly. “You said there’d be a price, but I’ll pay it.” She couldn’t let her island die…or the people on it, either. Neverland unwrapped her slowly, floating a few feet away. Their face was sad. “I’ll dream for you, I’ve _dreamed_ for you, and now…I’m ready to pay the price.”

 _My Dreamer_ , Sarah felt the anxiousness build in her heart. _My Sarah. To save us, you must leave._ She broke the surface of the water, her lungs gasping for air.


	88. Another Way

Camp was deserted when she returned. The Lost Boys had gone to ground and not emerged, fearing a hurricane most terrible. Only one person remained outside, pacing anxiously and looking up every so often towards the jungle. His eyes snapped on her as she appeared, and she saw him start to move towards her until he remembered himself and held himself in place. She walked over to him slowly.

“Did you,” He cleared his throat. “Did you talk to Felix?”

“I did.”

“You’re back in camp,” he observed. She nodded. A little sadly? He supposed that was understandable, under the circumstances – he wanted her to understand why he had to do what he was doing, but he didn’t exactly expect her to be happy about it. “You understand now why it has to be this way.” She understood many things now, including some she wished she didn’t. But he was right – it had to be this way.

Pan frowned. Even though she was back, he could tell something was still wrong. Did she still see him as a monster? His tone turned ardent. “If there was another way, I would do it for you, Sarah.” Her eyes remained guarded, searching his own for truth, for shadow, for a word that neither’d dared to speak between them. Not even to themselves, in their deepest thoughts, had they dared the word aloud. His jaw tightened. “I would.”

“There is another way.” Despite his better instincts, worry twitched on his face. She sounded so tired, so detached. He wracked his brain for a time she’d sounded like this, so empty of all the things that made her Sarah. Her parents forgetting was the closest he could think of. But she’d lost them once already, he didn’t think she could lose them again. Would she really care so much about the life of a single stranger? In his worry for her, let it be said, that for once Peter Pan lost track of what had always been his goal. He barely even spared a thought to another means to reach his end, until she spoke again. “I have to leave.”

His blood froze over. Sarah’s feelings slammed against the walls she’d put in place as she watched the darkness creep in to his eyes. “No one leave this island.” The fauna of the jungle all fell silent. They could feel the tight-strung danger in his voice. Sarah felt the danger too, but she could see what lay beyond the shadows now. “ _No one_ leaves this island.”

Sarah could see, but Pan could not. He seized her roughly by the shoulder straps of her vest, hauling her towards him with a force he hadn’t used on her in weeks, in what felt another lifetime from all the things that they had seen and done and said. Her heart roared at her to stop hurting him, her mind that he might hurt her, and over all of it she felt herself a stone. She loved her island. She loved her Lost Boys. She loved…and love was sacrifice. She would do what needed to be done.

Her eyes reflected nothing, and this hurt him all the worse, made his anger even harsher. “You are never. Leaving. This. Island.” He hissed.

“Let me go, Peter.” His grip tightened at the sound of her voice, quiet and calm. How could she, how dare she be so calm about betraying him? His grip slackened. He let her go, then stepped away.

“That’s Pan to you.” A crack formed in her armour. Sarah wasn’t the only one who could put up walls.

“Peter,” Her voice came soft and pleading, and it rent.

“Did I stutter, lost boy?” His face twisted in disgust. “The next time you disrespect me, it’s the cages for you.” Could he see beyond the walls to where his arrows hit their mark? His eyes told her he did not, yet as her own wouldn’t show it either, how could she say for sure? With a deep breath she shoved away the hurt. This was better. This was necessary. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into skin to fight away the urge to let this cup pass over her.

“Pan.” His eyes narrowed. She wasn’t speaking to him as a Lost Boy would. “Listen to me.” Where she found it in her for her voice to remain steady, she would never know. Maybe Neverland, saddened by the pain it caused her, gave her strength. But wherever that power came from, somehow she found it. She spoke calmly, trying to bring him to her side.

“Neverland is dying.” She held up a hand to stop his arguing that he knew that. “If you take that boy’s heart, you will destroy the island forever. You’ll have your magic. You’ll have your youth. But Neverland will never be the same.” The strength gave out. Her voice began to crack. “I can’t let that happen!”

It was wrong that she should be able to wipe away his anger in a moment, wrong that worry and sadness and all the things he thought he’d left behind should rush in to take the power anger gave. A shuddery breath regained her composure, and she continued. When she dove back beneath the waterfall a third and final time, Neverland explained the price she’d pay. It was a hard choice, made all the harder because it wasn’t a choice at all.

“The island needs new dreams to bring it back. And the dreams can’t come from here. If I go,” She blinked once, hard. “I have to go and bring the dreams back. I have to spread the dreams so people believe again.” She glanced out over the jungle, and he could see how much she loved each leaf, each rock, each patch of dampened earth. How could she leave a place she was tethered to so strongly?

“And when enough people dream again,” Her voice was hesitant now, and he seized on this sign that maybe, maybe he could convince her not to go. “When the island is restored, I can come back.” He stared at her a long time then in silence.

“And when might that be?” His voice now sounded cold. Sarah’s eyes glanced down. She knew her absence wouldn’t be a short one. “And if you grow up?” His face twisted into a painful smirk. “How will you bring the dreams back when yours are dead? When you’re all grown up and don’t have times for silly games or childish fantasies, when you convince yourself this was all some dream that happened in your head?” He narrowed his eyes. “If you leave this island for your world, you will stop believing. And once you stop believing, you will never –” Sarah cut him off.

“I will _never_ stop believing.” Fire sparked inside her eyes. Pan knew better. She would go away and leave him, get tied down with grown-up life, and he would never lay his eyes on her again. So few adults held on to their belief. But then…a small voice in the back of his mind piped up that _he_ had not let go of his belief. And he and Sarah, after all, were very much alike.

Sarah was firmer in her faith. She would never stop trying if it meant she could save the people that she cared about. She would never stop trying to get back to the place that she loved. “I am doing this for Neverland,” she said firmly. “And the Lost Boys, and…” Her breath caught, a shuddery sigh. Her eyes caught his in a steady gaze. “I said that I’d protect you.”

Mark this moment down, oh time and tide, in your ledgers stretching back through all the ages that have passed and stretching forwards to the ages yet to be. This was the moment, this look, this voice, this word. This was the moment that Peter Pan, failed.

Arms crashed around her then, her face pressed tight against a chest all clothed in green, against the king who smelled of earth and sun-warmed stone, against the demon who was after all a boy. His hand reached up to cradle the back of her head, twining in her hair as he pressed her to him as though the moment he let go she would be gone. He could put up walls as she could. But she could tear them down as well.

Sarah wished he wouldn’t do this. It was hard, so hard to maintain the illusion of staying strong when all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him as tightly and sob, sob for all the things she’d miss and for the chance, however small, that she might never come back again. But that was a luxury she could not afford herself. He growled into her hair,

“You can’t leave. I won’t let you.” And she forced herself to wriggle loose from his grip. His eyes beat into her with pain and accusation, and the slowly growing breath of resignation. “One heart,” he argued, pleaded even. “One heart, and the island will be fine. The magic will be restored, you won’t have to leave – why won’t you just take the path that’s in front of you?” She looked at him stoic, silent. He raked a hand unhappily through his hair.

“You know why.” He did. He wished he didn’t. He wished that she were more like him, ruthless and ready to toss aside whoever she might need to get what she wanted, heedless of collateral damage and willing to take the easy way. From deep within, an old memory twinged. The easy way – the coward’s way. But Sarah was no coward. He shook his head. She knew that she had won.

“I suppose I couldn’t stop you if I tried, could I?” His voice was dry, sarcasm to spackle and suture up his walls. “The island liking you so much better. Why even ask my permission?” She hadn’t returned his fierce show of affection, leaving him alone to tend his wounds. He might have healed her own if she had let him, but instead she kept herself apart. If she gave in, she feared she’d never find the strength to leave. Still her armour had its cracks, and though she feared she’d make things worse she couldn’t help but give an honest answer to his question.

“I wanted to know if you would let me go.”

“And?”

“I think you will.” He looked aside, not wanting to meet her eyes.

“You promised you’d be here when I woke up,” he murmured. How strongly that pulled on her heart. She stepped towards him.

“I saw this island forever in my dreams, you know.” Her voice was whisper-quiet. “I could barely remember it, but I saw it. And I loved it.” His hands were stiff when she took them in her own, as if he was now trying to hold himself apart. “I’ll come back, Peter,” she promised. “And until I do…” She faltered, unsure she should continue. He brought his eyes back to hers, both full of uncertainty. “Dream of me?” He answered her with a kiss. Until she was back with him for good, he didn’t think he could dream of anything else.


	89. Yet

After that, explanations had to be made. “Let me tell them.” She’d asked him softly, not wanting her friends to hear from any mouth but her own that she was leaving. He’d nodded stiffly, standing back, and calling out for his band to leave the hushed safety of their tents. Slowly they came. Relief sat on some of their faces, guilt on others, and reserve and caution on others still.

“Sarah has something to say.” Looks were exchanged, a whisper dared. Was he making her apologise for what she’d said before? She certainly looked nervous enough. But of course, Lost Boys did not apologise, even to their leader. And Sarah to any insult to Pan would apologise last of all. Pan stood back then, his face dark to mask the hurt. He met no one’s eyes until Felix, who’d felt that Things were About to Change, returned to camp. His lieutenant settled beside him.

Sarah took a deep breath, masking her face as hard as she could into calm. “You all know the island is dying.” The Lost Boys blinked back at her. “You’ve been searching for a sacrifice to keep it alive. The Heart of the Truest Believer.” She tried to meet their eyes, but couldn’t. “Neverland doesn’t want that. They won’t be the same if they’re living off of death.” The murmurings grew louder. “So they told me another way.” She swallowed hard.

 “I have to leave.” The Lost Boys erupted then in noise, but she held up a hand to silence them. “The island needs new dreams to bring it back. I have to dream them – make others dream them. And unfortunately, I can’t do that here.”

Xavier could keep his peace no longer, “You can’t leave!” He yelled, brushing Arthur off his shoulder. His head whirled between Sarah and his leader, demanding, “What happened to no one leaves Neverland? You’re one of _us_.” She painted a smile over her face.

“It’s not forever.” She promised them quietly.

“How long?” This came from Kasim. She shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

“Then…” Cody piped up, looking very much as if he might cry. “How do you know you’ll come back?” How did she know? She slammed the sliding, mocking voice that said she didn’t back down in her mind. She wouldn’t give up.

“How could I not?” She tacked a laugh on the end of her question, as if the very idea of her not coming home were ridiculous. Cody nodded stiffly, twisting his young face up in a scowl to mask the beginning of tears from his eyes.

From where he watched, Pan scowled. She was acting so calm about this, enough almost to make him wonder if she really cared at all. Maybe she was _happy_ to be going back to her world and her parents, maybe this was easy for her even as it clawed at him. He could tell the Lost Boys were torn up as well, and he reflected grimly that it was good his plans to break up her friendship with the Lost Boys had failed – they were one more tether to try and pull her back to him. He saw the calm mask of her face. If she even _cared_.

Felix knew quite a bit more about masks, more than enough to know that Sarah was wearing one. He’d seen her uncertainty, her fear before she’d gone off to the waterfall. He had to hand it to her, this girl who always kept her feelings on display for all to see – she was doing a mighty fine job of keeping herself in check. Even he was impressed. He wasn’t as shaken as some of the others by her news. She’d said she’d find another way, and so she had – he was just happy, when it came down to it, that it wasn’t her taking the sacrificial lamb’s place. Time would pass, and she’d come back. He had a feeling.

Nibs almost seemed the most affected of them all, more so because he was struggling to look as if her news affected him very little. Nonetheless, he came to the front of the crowd, pleading with her, “You can’t _do_ this.” Several heads, Loto among them, nodded their agreement. Never mind how little time she had been there, compared to the rest of them. Sarah was one of them. Sarah was part of the island. Without her, things just wouldn’t be the same. Sarah met his eyes carefully, and if Nibs had been as astute as Rasheed he might have caught the twinge of pain behind her facade of careful strength.

“I can.” She asserted calmly. “And I must.” Her fists clenched. “And I will.” And there was no arguing with that.

There were no celebrations that night. Instead they sat silent as a vigil, all waiting for the morning that would change things on the island where time stood still. Sarah kept her brave face, even needling some of her friends to laughing about the adventures they’d gotten into, and the ways that things had changed since she’d landed on the island so many days and nights ago. Xavier even joked with her that if she wasn’t careful, they’d tie her up again – and maybe then she’d think twice about leaving them behind.

Even this quiet camaraderie was too much for Pan to deal with. He left Sarah to the Lost Boys, retreating once more to his tent to muse. He wondered now if this is what the Shadow had meant by “the right choice”. Sarah was sure he was making it, letting her leave instead of searching for the Heart. But if this choice were the right one, why did it feel so wrong? Being a villain was significantly easier. He listened as even the soft sounds from the camp died off, as Lost Boys drifted away for the peace of sleep. Then everything was quiet – until.

At the sound of his tent flap opening, Pan growled. There was only one person who would dare to enter his tent, and he was in no mood to see him. Didn’t he have enough problems today without his lieutenant bringing him more? In a voice to grind glass he demanded, “What is it, Felix?” Felix didn’t respond. He whipped his head to glare at his second-in-command, ready to chew him out for wasting his time tonight of all nights. As the visitor slipped into the tent, he stared in shock. Felix hadn’t responded, because Felix wasn’t there.

“Sarah?” His voice was almost a whisper, as if she were some strange spirit he was afraid of frightening away. She clutched at her arms over her stomach, skirting her eyes away from him. “What are you –” He stopped.  Now wasn’t the time to be questioning things. She’d never once come into his tent willingly, not while he was in it. Only the day of capture the flag, when she’d stabbed him because he was too territorial to think there might come a day when her in his tent was the thing he’d want most. No, now wasn’t the time to be questioning things at all.

 Still avoiding eye contact, Sarah made her way to his pallet and sat down. He joined her quietly, biting back his questions even when she lay her head against his shoulder. He sat stock still at first, not wanting whatever strange spell had come over her to break. After a while he brought a hand up carefully to stroke her hair. Her mood had shifted again, that painful calm he’d so resented thrown away for something fragile.

“Peter?”

“Mm.”

 “I don’t want to go.” Her soft whisper thudded into the night, echoing around his tent with a weight loud as thunder. He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, whispering into her hair,

“Then don’t.” She tried to pull away from him then, but he wouldn’t let her. After only a moment she stopped trying. She didn’t really want to be away from him, either, and didn’t protest as he lay them down. She had to leave the island to save it, to save its magic and its trees and yes, even its Lost Boys. She knew what she had to do. But that didn’t make it any easier. She knew that come morning she would leave her island, and who knew how long it might be until she saw it again, how long until she could be with the friends she loved so much and the boy who was holding her now like something precious.

She turned in his grip so that they faced each other, one hand snaking out from under his arm to stroke his face. He really did look like an angel, for all she knew of the demon inside. She inched forward – it wasn’t far, as close as they were – and pressed her lips against his own. Their eyes fluttered shut as Pan reciprocated.

This was a new kind of kiss for Sarah. Unable to say what she wanted to in words, her lips nonetheless poured forth the full force of her feelings. It wasn’t a kiss, but a plea. Pan felt it, felt the fear and sadness and desperation humming through her lips as they moved with his own, and he clung to her even as she clung to him. His Lost Girl would be leaving him soon, and there was nothing he could do. To keep her here against her will, to carry out his plan so that she’d never have to leave would be to lose her all the same. He broke their kiss, both breathless as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” He whispered. That’s when the tears began.

Sarah buried her head against his chest and sobbed noiselessly, shoulders shaking delicately at first and then violently as the full force of what she was losing fell around her. She couldn’t maintain the stone mask any more. Pan held her quietly all the while, stroking her hair but saying nothing, letting her vent what she couldn’t show in the light of day. She’d put on a brave face for the boys, now he knew. Her earlier coldness, her distantness – he was sure it had been the same. But this was better. Now he knew, it wasn’t easy for her to leave at all.

At long last she stilled, silent sobs subsiding until Pan sat both of them up. “I love you.” He said again, and she was certain that he meant it. There were no games, no tricks, not even a glimmer of mischief in the boy king’s serious eyes. He wiped gently at her tears with his thumb, trying to brush away the heartbreak from her face before it spread into his own.

Her hand caught his and stilled it. Closing her eyes, she pressed it firmly to her chest, folding her head over top of it. A long moment later, she opened her eyes. “I love you, too.”

They tried to stretch the night as long as possible, whispering in each other’s arms long after the last Lost Boy had gone to sleep. And though they drifted, here and there, into light brushes of somnial bliss, more often would one of them lie awake as the other slept, watching each breath and memorising each curve of the face, sitting guard against the unwanted light of morning.

But some time, even on Neverland, must pass. And though both Dreamers with more power over the island than any human should have right to wished with all their hearts the sun would not rise over them, still they both knew that it must. And so, as the two Dreamers slept at last entangled in each other, morning came. The Island held its breath. Today was the day.


	90. Back

They slept in late that morning. Yesterday had been eventful to say the least, and aside from that they really didn’t want to get up. So long as they were in his tent, they could pretend, a little longer, that they didn’t feel the breath the island held, didn’t know this time would be their last together for who could say how long. But finally, slowly, reluctantly, they rose. They ate breakfast together quietly, steeling their courage to face the world. He teased her less than usual – though he didn’t entirely leave off. It helped to make things feel more normal, helped them forget, or at least pretend to, what awaited her once she left their canvas cave.

Pan dared the exit first, untying the tent flaps slowly and stepping out into the camp. Only a moment later, he came back in. “I suppose they’re _your_ friends after all,” He commented wryly. His voice was soft, and she could see a sparkle of excitement in his eye. Brows furrowed, she padded over to the entrance of the tent. Just beyond, she saw the Lost Boys circled, waiting. They were there to say goodbye. She took deep breaths as she pulled on her boots, telling herself most firmly she would not cry.

Pan held the flap open for her with a flourish as she stepped out into the silent, waiting camp. Was he showing her off, a little? He might have been. But as none of the Lost Boys seemed perturbed – except for maybe Nibs – she pushed the thought aside. “If – ” She cleared her throat, and said more gruffly, “If you all are planning to stick me in a cage or something again, we’re going to have a problem.”

The Lost Boys did descend upon her, but for once instead of tying her up, or tackling her, or even goading her into a sword fight, they thumped her on the back. Kasim and Loto called their goodbyes, Koya grumped that he guessed they were even for the knife. Even Lucian, at the edge of the crowd, caught her eye and after a moment, gave a single nod. She was saving him now, saving all of them – and he guessed he had to give her due for that.

“Did you ever see such a pack of animals?” Felix’s drawl broke over the calls and shouts of the group. “Now that’s no way to treat a lady.” The boys drew back, leaving Sarah some room to breathe. “My mistake.” Felix ambled in front of her, a lazy smile on his face. “Not a lady at all. Hand, Lost Girl.” She eyed him cautiously, suspicious even now that Felix might be Up to Something. Nonetheless, she lifted her hand. It shook a little, giving away her fraying emotional strength. Her brow furrowed as Felix closed her hand around a hard object and stepped back.

She opened her hand, staring down at a bird so detailed she could hardly believe it was wood. Small openings at the tail and mouth gave it away, and the warm chestnut hue in place of vibrant plumage. Her eyes stung, and she glared up at the one who’d made them do so. “You’re doing this on purpose,” She accused. Maybe he was.

“Better bring that back,” Felix drawled, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Worked a long time on it.” Sarah bit hard on the inside of her cheek, trying to stop the inevitable flood.

“Maybe I will,” She struggled to snipe, “Maybe I won’t.” Her voice wavered. Felix grinned his knife-blade grin.

“I know you will.” He rested a hand on her shoulder, and a feeling of warmth flowed through her. She stared gratefully into his eyes, an understanding passing between them. They’d never call each other friends, and if he asked, well. She’d still probably say that she hated him. But Felix had accepted that in the end, Sarah really was like Pan. Sarah was his family. “Fly home soon, little bird. Try not to look too old when you get back.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch him or hug him. Knowing she wouldn’t succeed at either, she simply nodded.

“I despise you.” He might have believed it if her voice hadn’t come out so warbly. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He stepped back, and she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore as she saw her first friends had left the circle, and were now waiting for her. Xavier’s eyes were looking as watery as her own, though he was keeping his jaw clenched to stop the tears from falling down.

She tried once more to sound brave, for all the tears were running freely down her face. “Better not slack while I’m gone, Xavier.” She spoke through gulps. “Bet I’m not done growing yet, and we’ll see who’s so tough when I get a few more inches on you!” Xavier returned a watery grin of his own.

“In your dreams, Lost Girl.” He challenged. “Try not to get too soft! It will be embarrassing if we have to start you back at day one.” All at once, she was wrapped in a bear hug embrace, his heavy hands clomping against her back. “I’ll tackle you once for every day you’re gone when you get back,” He threatened. Nibs chimed in,

“So don’t be gone too long – because Xavier can’t count that high.” Xavier released her to glare at his companion. Sarah laughed.

“Don’t worry – I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Nibs nodded.

“I know you will.” His eyes shifted off. Was hugging Nibs a good idea? She lifted her arm, leaving it up to him. Hesitantly at first, but then with vigour, his arms wrapped around her. Pan, on-looking, turned his head off to the side. There was something different in the way Nibs hugged her than Xavier, but there were enough problems in camp for one day to make a deal of it. And of course, he had however long until Sarah returned to make clear to Nibs _exactly_ who she would be hugging when she got back.

“Tell him to bring more girls.” Sarah admonished as Nibs let go, and a blush crept over his cheeks. “He said he’d think about it, so remind him.” Nibs didn’t think he’d dare do anything of the sort. But with Sarah scolding him one last time, he only nodded. Arguing with her had never been his strong suit.

Arthur and Rasheed remained then, from her closest friends. Arthur didn’t hug her, but he put a hand on her shoulder and looked fiercely into her eyes with more meaning than he could find the words to say. “Thank you.” Was all he vocalised. And, “Come back.” Sarah nodded, reaching her hand up to grasp his shoulder in return. She knew he was thanking her for finding another way as much as for saving them. Though she was sure he’d do anything it took to save Xavier, she suspected he’d nonetheless have struggled with sacrificing an innocent boy. For one of Pan’s unholy hellions, Arthur always had been gentle.

Rasheed looked up at her as Arthur joined the larger group, his young face calm as ever. “You will come back.” He nodded. “We will be waiting.” He didn’t protest as she wrapped him in a hug. She would miss this little brat, and though he didn’t hug her back the fact that he didn’t push her away told her he would miss her too, at least a little. When she released him, he slipped away. He joined the other Lost Boys assembled to send her off, watching with solemn eyes the girl who was going away to save them.

And then only one goodbye remained. With last nods to her, hands raised, mouthed words of encouragement, the Lost Boys filtered away. Even the most curious knew that some things shouldn’t be seen by prying eyes. Pan and Sarah stared across the distance between them. For a time, neither moved. Neither spoke. They stood and looked at each other, each thinking of all that had passed between them to bring them to this moment.

Then, both moved at once. The crashed together as lightning coming home to crackle against the Earth and clung with all the force in their bodies to the other. “Come back to me.” His voice came low and gravelly. “I’m giving you permission for a while, not forever.” A half laugh, half sob shuddered against his chest.

“I don’t take orders, Peter.” Her voice pinched out through a watery grin. He put just enough distance between them then that he could stare, in full, at her face. He ran his eyes over it time and time again, trying to lock her image in his mind. She did the same, though that she ever might forget the boy before her seemed impossible. Not even if she lived to be one hundred.

An unhappy thought with that crossed her mind. “Peter…” His brows furrowed, and Sarah bit her lip. “I might be rather old when I come back.” Surprising her, he laughed.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Lost Girl,” He assured her. “I was somewhat older when I first came to Neverland myself.” He saw the question forming on her lips, but sealed it up again with his own. “I’ll tell you when you come back,” He promised. Another tear slid down her cheek.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” She crashed her lips on his again, pulling him close as she could and feeling that somehow he was still too far away. It was a good thing for the Lost Boys that they all had slunk away – other people were the last thing right now on either Dreamer’s mind.

Eventually, though they wanted to stay like that forever, Sarah pulled at Pan’s arms. It was time, before she lost her nerve for good. “I’m coming back.” She promised. All around them, the island hummed. Giving her hand one last, ferocious squeeze, he let her go. She caught him again.

“Peter, wait.” He knew she wouldn’t change her mind, but his hopes crept upwards even so. They crashed, as he’d warned them they would, when instead of saying she’d changed her mind she reached up to take her compass from her neck. She pressed it into his hand. “So you don’t forget me while I’m gone.” His hand closed over it, and hers, and then he smiled.

“Lost Girl,” He said wryly, the bitter medicine of laughter trying to cut away at the sadness crushing around him. “You’re one person I don’t think I can forget.” He turned her hand loose, and slipped the compass back over her head. “Keep it with you,” He murmured softly, adjusting the pendant lightly against her chest. “So you can always find your way home.” And then she was crying again. “Shh, Sarah.” He wiped at her tears with his thumb, though in truth he felt like crying some himself.  

Sarah nodded, her head a bit shaky. One last kiss, and she was ready, or at least as ready as she'd ever be. Pan raised a hand in the air, summoning the way she’d first arrived. She steeled herself for its arrival, the Shadow that had first warned her, in its fashion, that she might one day have to leave.  It slipped out of the morning shadows to hover before them, watching both Dreamers intensely with glowing eyes.

“Take her back.” The Shadow’s grinding laughter thudded through the camp.

“You figured it out.” Pan snarled. He could be soft with Sarah, but he wasn’t in the mood for the Shadow’s words. Sarah looked around at her camp, her island, as the Shadow wrapped its hands around her wrists.

“Goodbye Peter,” She whispered one last time. “Goodbye, Neverland.” _I’ll see you soon, my Dreamer. In dreaming, and in waking_. She hoped as fiercely as anyone could that soon it would be. If not, well. She didn’t think there was enough time left to the world to forget Pan’s look of heartbreak as the Shadow flew her away.


	91. Waking

The return trip was painfully slow. The Shadow was not much of one for words, for her at least, even if she’d been feeling talkative. As it was, she had nothing to do but ruminate as hours passed on what she was leaving behind. Only as she started to recognise the lights and telephone poles of her world did she spare a thought for what she was coming back to. She’d see her parents again, the friends she’d left behind. She’d have some explaining to do. She’d have a _lot_ of explaining to do.

And then of course, there was the work. It had all seemed so clear on Neverland. Return to her world, bring back the dreams, return. But now that she was here, just how was she to do that? It wasn’t as though anyone would believe where she had been, she was sure. But then…maybe they didn’t have to, exactly. A plan began to form in her mind. She’d always known her favourite stories to be fiction. That had never made her believe them any less.

Maybe that was the truth of words, of stories: reality is fickle. The waking world will quibble over even the smallest of truths. He said this, she said that, this is so, this is not. But stories reside in the world of dreams. Stories reside in the world of dreamers. And there, the rules are different. There in the hearts and minds of every person who’s ever searched for something more, what is not possible? The people of the world of dreams live their lives a thousand times over and over again. Each lives in the minds of dreamers, when a page is turned, a screen is flashed, a word is spoken. They live eternal. And who are we, the waking, to say they are not real?

This is when Sarah knew. She was a Dreamer. She was not the only one. She swore in that moment, as the Shadow flew her over parking lots and shopping malls and highways down which cars rolled with lonely headlights through the late hours of the night, that she would not give up. She would tell her stories anyway she could, so that Neverland, her Neverland, would live forever in the minds of other dreamers. And then maybe, just maybe, she could find her way back home.

And speaking of home, her own now loomed before her. It looked smaller than it had, and less familiar. It seemed more like a photograph discovered in some old closet, of a place that one had loved when they were younger, but perhaps not thought about for many years. How Sarah’s heart turned then, to be torn between two homes when her return to the one meant the loss of the other. The Shadow opened her window – how she didn’t know, as she was sure it had been locked, and deposited her softly on the floor of her old room. She looked around. It looked no different save a covering of dust.

The sound of the window opening (not all magic could be silent) brought a sleepy woman stumbling to her door. At the sight of Sarah, and the shadowy figure standing next to her, the woman’s mouth fell open. She leaned against the doorframe as a flood of memories came crashing back, and she recognised the daughter she had lost. The woman’s mouth opened and closed, searching for a voice to say she knew not what as she ran to catch her daughter in her arms, to check and see that she was real and not some dream or conjuration summoned up as a trick of her mind.

“Sarah? Oh, my God. Sam, come quick. Sarah, where have you – why didn’t we – what is – _Sarah_.” Her father came to the door just in time to see a shadow dart out of the window. At the sight of his missing daughter, his memories came back in in a rush just as her mother’s had, and he ran to join his wife in their embrace. Tears streamed down Sarah’s face at this bittersweet reunion, torn between the pain of what had been and what was now, and for a while no one spoke.

But eventually, the questioning began. Sarah was understandably reluctant at first – who would believe the tale that she was telling? But her parents remembered the Shadow that had come and made them forget about their daughter. Magic seemed the only viable explanation.

And so in the end she told them, about the place where she had been. She told them about the adventures she had had, the people she had met – she danced around the subject of the boy she fell in love with. She told them why she couldn’t come home before, and why in the end she couldn’t stay. Remarkably, her parents understood, far more than she would ever have thought possible. They fussed of course, frantic for her safety, but they were her parents after all. And the slight sparking in their eyes, when she told them of the wonders she had seen, gave her pause. And she wondered, if in some time gone by, they had been Dreamers too.

No one else, besides the three of them, had seen the shadow. No one else could know the truth, unless she told it to them as though it were a fiction. And though she’d never had great multitudes of friends, still she made enough of a mark that many people might have questions. And so they did - but not the courage enough to ask them.

The strangest thing about Sarah Everett’s disappearance, is that no one could remember her being gone. That is, they remembered the last time they had seen her, and they remembered that they hadn’t seen her again. But they couldn’t remember ever having been worried about it, beyond a frantic week or two in the beginning. The story eventually put out was that she had been sick, unable to so much as look at a screen or answer the phone.

No one quite believed this. Which is to say, everyone wanted to believe this, and so they did. It was easier than looking too hard at the problem, scratching just a little deeper to the tin beneath the veneer. Soon, as inexplicable as it seemed, Sarah fell back in to her routine. The summer ended, though she’d left as it had just begun, and she went off to her second year of college. She didn’t say much about her “sickness”, and as the people who might have wondered felt rather strange about having forgotten her existence, they didn’t ask. A treaty of ignorance reigned. And life rolled on.

Sarah Everett was back in her world.


	92. Epilogue: Six Years Later

Six years later. That’s a cruel trick of an author’s pen, or of their clacking, malice-filled keyboard. Six years later, as if three words could encapsulate the thousands of moments and feelings and heartaches and heart openings that pour through every vibrant thread-strung corridor of living. Six years later.

Six years is nothing in the span of a human life. Blink and you’ll miss it. One day you graduate from high school, the next you’re three years into grad school anxiously wondering where the last years of your life got off to. Perhaps you covered them with papers to read and theses to write, under grocery bills and rent checks and the ghostly ticket stubs of movies you meant to see but never did. Dig long enough, and perhaps you’ll find them. Perhaps you won’t. Six years is nothing.

Not so for Sarah. Each year stretched longer than the last as she switched between stasis and mania, waiting to resume a life more real to her than what was in front of her, and frantic to spread all the dreaming that she could. She wrote furiously that first year. Songs, stories, poetry. Everything she could think of to spread the story, the wonder of Neverland. To bring the dreaming back to the world. The next year, she wrote more slowly. She had tests to take. The next year jobs, and fresh schools to apply for. A festering sense that perhaps, perhaps, she should not put all her hope in returning to her island before she truly had to Grow Up.

Her dreams, when she awoke, were foggy. The old longing came back with a vengeance, all the harder for the fact that now she knew where she was meant to be – and it was not here. Friends, true friends, were hard to make when she believed she soon would leave them, and the friends she’d grown to love she couldn’t speak to if she tried. Time, space, and realm kept them from her. So Sarah waited. She waited, and she waited, and she waited. And she dreamed with all her might.

 

Six years later.

 

On a night like any other, she sat squinting at her screen. The clock read out 1:21, and she knew she should lay it aside. Try to sleep. She had class tomorrow morning, and a meeting with her advisor. She sighed, rubbing her hands against her forehead. _I can’t do this much longer, Neverland_. She spoke to the island often, off-handedly, though she never knew if they could hear her or not. It was more a habit now than anything, born of no one to speak to beyond her worlds of stories and songs and tales and poems of the things she had seen, of the place and the people she’d loved. She rarely remembered her dreams anymore. She turned her face reproachfully back to the screen. One sentence more, surely she could write just one sentence more. One sentence more for dreaming. For the Boys, and for The Boy.

And for the island. She brushed the compass hanging dully from her neck. The cord had worn through many times, and each time she’d remade it while her surface-level friends had laughed and asked her if she wasn’t going to get rid of that old thing yet. She never would. Though it hardly seemed believable, it still worked here. Pointing towards the second star, reminding her that this was not forever, and that home still waited out there for her. She glared again at the hateful clock. _I can’t do this much longer at all._

All of a sudden, cold air flashed over her neck. That was odd, even for the late hour of the night. She turned her head from her desk. It cracked – she hadn’t moved in quite a while, and almost shrieked to see a large black figure right behind her. She almost shrieked. But then she smiled. “One moment,” She told it cheerfully. Her hands began to shake. She went to her closet, taking down a box of letters. All were stamped and sealed, last missives to go out to let the world know she had gone. She set it on her desk, and from the box she took a small, time-worn carving of a bird with a whistle tail. She slipped it into her pocket.

That done, she looked around her tiny room. She thought she might miss it. It had been her refuge many a tear-filled night. Then, with a firm nod and a single tear, she slipped her hand into the Shadow’s own, outstretched. “Is it?” Her voice was hesitant. “Is it for good, this time?” The Shadow said nothing. It rarely did. But for all it was barely corporeal, she felt its grip grow firm around her hand.

And as she landed on the beach, that same soft beach she’d crashed on in what felt another lifetime, the single tear turned to many. A circle of hoods awaited her, far more friendly than the ones she’d met before. Her eyes raked over them, once and twice and thrice and again, as though if she were to blink they’d disappear. She saw some changes to their ranks since she had gone. A feminine curve here and there, a long blonde ponytail that snaked from under a hood. She saw no sign of Devin. But she saw a freckled face that bounced too much to keep its hood up, a dark hand on that hood’s shoulder both to give and take support, fire-brown eyes and emerald green ones, neat dreadlocks, dark curls, and all the boys she’d loved and missed so much.

And from the group, a single pair walked out. A giant with a scar across his face, and a slender youth who radiated power, each reaching down a hand to help her up. She placed a hand in each. She looked up smiling, into bright green eyes where mischief danced and gleamed. “It’s been a while, boys.” Her voice cracked, and then she crashed into that warm, familiar, green-clad chest. Strong arms gripped around her, one pair at first that clung as to an anchor in a storm. Then many arms piled around her, and she laughed and cried and smiled all at once.

Slowly the arms peeled away, and with them her six years, until she stood among them just as she had been. She turned her hands before her, closed her eyes and pinched herself, until the words she’d always longed for filled her ear.

“Welcome home, Lost Girl.” Her eyelids fluttered open, years of pain replaced by joy. Another voice thrummed softly in her mind. _Welcome home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~


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